


I want you to cry

by Devahhole



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bullying, Crazy, Dark, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Evil, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, Knifeplay, Lemon, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Love, Multiple Personalities, Murder, Mystery, Naughty, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Smut, Spit Kink, Threesome - F/F/M, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devahhole/pseuds/Devahhole
Summary: A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.





	1. Books and Covers

**Author's Note:**

> Just a 10 chapter fic of surprises. Hope you enjoy. Btw I am not a Sakura hater I love Sakura but for the story purpose Naruto is dickish....to everyone here.

They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

He didn't know just who the hell _they_ were but, they weren't fooling anyone with that crock-of-shit proverb, least of all him.

It was human nature to look at something and either give a whole shit about it or pass it up with little to no consideration.

Although these days people liked to straddle the fence and pretend to be open-minded. And he gusssed...who could blame them? Everyone was so goddamn sensitive regarding personal preferences these days.

He sighed.

That must be where that stupid trope came from. One big proverbial bandage for the uglies of this world, to make things equal.

'You can be pretty on the inside, since your outsides look like it's been run through by a train comprised of grenades and aids.'

Internally he was smirking. He thought he'd look like an idiot smiling in front of the class for seemingly no reason.

"Uzumaki Naruto?"

He inhaled deeply.

A deep breath was all it took for him to adapt to almost any situation. The intake of breath felt as though he were giving birth to the new him or the him that he wanted to project most. He almost felt he was morphing into something less heavy of the burden he bared daily. 

A metamorphosis was taking place, whether the people around him knew it or not.

He unclenched his teeth from impaling the inside of his cheek, the raw and coppery taste of blood excited his dullened taste buds.

"Yes sir, that's correct."

He stared blindly into the blurry mass of his classmates. What was this fuckin' class anyway? Anatomy or something? He didn't take enrolling seriously.

And from the looks of it, neither had anyone else, no one looked particularly stoked or attentive.

Continuing to play the part of expectations he rolled his shoulders back and stood with the perfect posture he almost never used when he was alone.

Being lazy had been his default mode but for the sake of appearances, he had to leave bad habits behind. Though there were some habits he just couldn't shake, his posture was easily the basic of the bunch. The more-- bestial habits simply wouldn't allow him to be cleansed of them. Some habits clung to every aspect of his life and wove themselves tirelessly through every joint in his body. But standing up straight, he could do.

"Mr. Uzumaki is joining us all the way from," the professor looked at the blonde student beside him in silent inquiry, a sheen on sweat over his brows. He was standing behind an official looking podium, reading over Naruto's tidy student file or the altered version of it anyway.

At this point, Naruto had already revealed this piece of information to professor Iruka more times than he had beat his meat just this very morning. However, he felt inclined to reiterate, if only to be over this whole ordeal and take his seat.

Being singled-out as the new student never made the tiniest bit of sense to him. It hadn't been desired by him nor his new classmates; who regarded him with seemingly thoughtless faces.

Who gave a fuck about some guy transferring in the middle of the semester anyway? Everyone would acquaint themselves with him eventually. Why did teachers want to make a spectacle of this particular event? Did it get them off?

He felt personally attacked and frankly, agitated that he had to repeat himself.

"Kyoto, Japan." He stated in a raspy baritone to his peers, his voice reached further than the first row of cluttered students. He could feel the deepness of his tone rumbling in his chest, almost like a growl trapped in his throat.

"Kyoto!" Professor Iruka sang abruptly, shadowing Naruto's words and in a horrifyingly toneless voice. The sound seemed responsible for why people often died without reason.

"Getting too old for this remembering-thing, sincerest apologies Mr.-Uh-hmph-Uzumaki." He babbled snapping his fingers, as though the light bulb in his head had finally decided to click on and return the memories of the last ten seconds when he had a similar conversation with Naruto.

The blonde offered thin grin and held the strap of his messenger bag securely.

_This fuckin guy!_

He couldn't help but to look at Iruka's unkempt appearance and believe the teacher had lived a desolate and god-awful-boring life, which had led him to his current career path. Around his late thirties, no wedding band, a horrible sense of fashion and easily forgetful. 

Iruka was clearly someone who got in where they fit in and forgot to check-out, regrettably, it seems. He embodied nothing of what teachers were conditioned to look like, in fact, of all the faces that looked like they didn't want to be there-Irukas face was in the top five of those.

Judging from the emptiness of his beady eyes, Naruto could tell nothing-as of late- seemed to impress the guy.

It's like he's one bad day away from blowing his brains out on the chalkboard, after first flipping the class off and maybe fucking a few student. Maybe. Who knows how long it's been since the guy had ravaged someone's goods. If his looks were any indication, it's been centuries. Iruka needed pussy like, yesterday.

Hopefilly Naruto would still be attending the school to catch his untimely meltdown. It may very well be the most exciting thing Iruka has ever done with his life.

A hand suddenly clasped his shoulder faintly and Iruka came into view with what tried to be a smile but turned into something slightly mortifying.

Maybe a grimace? The face that came during a heart attack? He couldn't be sure.

"Welcome to Leafli University, we trust that you'll succeed in all your academics this year and," he droned in a practiced trans of some sort. "contribute to the livelihood of our vibrantly thriving community. This is our mission statement. That being said, I'll have you take a seat beside," he craned his small neck to squint into the masses before pointing a finger to the second row of three long desks. "the vivacious Rock Lee."

The teacher smelled like he ate the coffee grounds right out of the bag and washed it down with its liquid form. It was so potent it nearly gave him a migraine standing this close to the guy.

Caffeine had no effects on his dull personality what-so-ever.

_Finally, he shuts the hell up._

With a noncommittal grunt, Naruto sauntered forward having no idea what the fuck a _Rock Lee_ was, even less of what it looked like.

He peered towards the faces that examined him with either boredom, unfiltered curiosity or immediate regret for having looked at him too closely.

Girls shied away from his icy blue eyes, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He flashed his most debonair smile and climbed the elongated steps at the side of the classroom. He navigated towards the second row and stood conflicted for a moment or two.

He could hear Iruka already giving instructions about completing something in a workbook, his voice still monotone though it managed to raise an octave to override a few whispers that began to disperse.

"Hey new guy, Psst!" Someone hissed in a whisper. Naruto's eyes flickered towards frantic hands waving over someone's head. They were located in the middle table of the second row.

By the look of excitement displayed on the guy's unearthly face, he could tell this was what a Rock Lee looked like and boy was it a treat.

No part of it good either.

_Holy fuckin-fuck. Are those eyebrows or the world's deadliest caterpillars?_

It took several seconds for his legs to function. So, not only had he been put on the spot but he also had to sit next to a potential faggot with a bizarre haircut and some sort of green spandex turtleneck. The guys eyes were as big as saucers for fucks sake.

_Fuck you Iruka._

Rock Lee rose out of his seat noisily, beckoning the befuddled blonde with the sweep of a gloved hand. Naruto moved with an urgency just so everyone wouldn't be looking at them and drawing conclusions like; they knew each other, fucked each other or shared brow grooming tips with each other.

He didn't associate with people like faggot brows and he had no intentions of starting. It wasn't that he was homophobic or anything, he just steered cleared of flamboyant types in general.

He always had a blatant way of expressing himself that some found sickening. The truth never seemed a valuable concept in a world full of people who wanted their feelings to be spared.

Everyone seemed to be a victim of something, one way or the other.

An arm suddenly lashed out to prevent him from reaching faggot brows.

He paused and examined the shiny red coat on someone's fingernails, it reminded him of the bloodied talons of a hawk.

His eyes swept over a girl with pink tresses of hair cascading over one of her eyes. A visible emerald orb pierced him intently before a smile touched the swell of her plump glossy lips.

If the class resembled book covers (for the sake of this whole, judging books by covers segment), she would be the book embellished with silky ivory feathers with the words, 'It's free, come hither' bedazzled on the front.

She looked like a grinning cliché as she chewed around a pen cap.

He could see the word, short and straight to the point.

Whore.

It flashed welcomingly over her head like some type of marquee in front of a cheap theater. A faint smile etched itself over his lips.

"No need to go any further, there's a perfectly hot seat right here. Lee won't miss you and there's a reason he's in that desk alone soooo you can just thank me later." She stated flirtatiously, skootching towards a person who refused to accommodate their unsanctioned pairing.

_Oh, is that right?_

"Hinata, move over," The pink haired girl uttered viciously under her breath when it became clear the girl beside her wouldn't budge. The figure beside her was so small that he didn't understand how the pink haired girl's hefty ass hadn't knocked her over.

Her emerald eyes were sharper than daggers as they turned on the smaller girl beside her.

Even he knew the desks weren't designed for three people to cram into one booth, so he could understand why the smaller girl hadn't been in a hurry to comply to the scowling girl beside her.

The smaller girl, he decided he would call her, The Hoodie.

The Hoodie's wispy bangs obscured most of her face, she was hunched forward over an open workbook not saying a word and possibly tuning the girl beside her out.

That seemed to peeve the whore even more.

"Are you freakin kidding me right now? Just go sit with Lee," She pressed to the girl beside her, the sneer on her lips made her look rabid, "don't make a scene Hinata, you'll regret it."

Surrounding eyes began to dart towards the conflict. The chatting escalated. 

_Great. Now I've got to defuse this._

He really didn't need the hassle. This situation was more trouble than it was worth and on his first day.

Although he wouldn't mind it if shit got sour. It could be the highlight of his first day. A real milk fight.

He mentally chastised himself for what he was about to do because he did enjoy catty fights. Maybe someone's tit got misplaced in the brawl, maybe hoodie girl could be packing a thicc body underneath her heaps of hood.

"Hey, thats alright, she can keep the seat. I'm a big boy I can take care of myself sweetheart and besides, I wont be too far away, if that's what concerns you." He teased in his most velvety voice.

The pink haired girl snapped her neck towards him like she would protest but then resignation dawned on her face. Her brows unfurled but he could tell she was still slightly miffed about the stunt the hoodie girl had pulled.

"Mmmhm, you're funny! How about I make it up to you after class?" She suggested.

_You'll do more than make it up to me, you just don't know. You shameless, shameless whore._

He didn't miss the way her tongue subtly swirled over the chewed-in pen cap. It sent a jolt of tremendous pleasure to his groin and he couldn't pass up this opportunity of communicating that with a single longing stare.

He felt his tongue rolling against the swell of his inner cheek deliciously, he could still taste his blood.

She stared right back at him, her lips quirked up with unsaid determination.

"Sounds like a plan beautiful," he says knocking his knuckles against her desk to demonstrate his enthusiasm of the idea. "See you then."

_I'm going to skull fuck those tonsils out of that filthy mouth and after that, who knows._

Way too easy, he was almost disappointed. To some degree he knew it would go that smoothly. This was to be expected from girls like her, they fed on attention and admiration.

He had an eye for these types of women, there was nothing particularly compelling about them, except their expertise in giving damn-good sloppy head and things similar to that nature.

In some ways, he supposed that was the talent he valued in them.

Everyone could be useful in some way.

He hadn't had any fun in two weeks and for him, that was a record; one he didn't wish to advance any further in.

Though, advance he must-as far as penetrating goes.

He had rarely sullied his cock on strangers who right away wanted to give it up to him. It just seemed like it held no challenge to him-even though getting head from said stranger was arguably the same concept.

Arguably!

He thought sex was too good a fate for the stuck-up bitch in front of him, he was certain she'd crave more after he force fed her his pulsing cock. He wanted to play the long game so he'd have something to occupy his time while he settled into his scheming lifestyle.

It wouldn't hurt to know at least one person.

_She'll have to suffice, for now._

He continued sidestepping towards his seat. Lee was peering down the aisle mouthing a question he couldn't make sense of, he wouldn't try to either. He intended to approach Lee like someone would an estranged cousin they had no intentions of knowing.

"You do that again, I'll slit your throat you dirty bitch." He could hear the pink haired girls voice threaten lowly, her tone darker than the bellish one she attempted to enchant him with before. He knew she had been talking to the hoodie girl. She said it so matter-of-factly that he knew it definitely hadn't been the first time she threatened the girl.

It never surprised him, the lengths most girls would go through for the attention he just provided to her. It hadn't even been long but it was enough for her to realize she wanted it. She wanted him.

Nothing was ever complicated about that type of girl, they only flaunted their tits and financial superiority over everyone else. From what he could see, she didn't have tits to flaunt but her hips were bountiful.

He could work with that.

He desperately needed to indulge in something sexual before he lost his fuckin' mind or whatever was left of it.

Just this once.

He just hoped she wasn't the type to downplay her experience or else things would get sickening fast.

If he had a dime for how often someone sucked his dick and begun with, "I don't normally- ", he would be leaving campus on his personal jet.

He slid into the booth with Lee and began to unload a composition notebook; the only thing he remembered to pack after arising from a deathlike stupor this morning.

"Hey man. I'm Lee, Rock Lee."

"So I've heard."

He sounds too proud to be the owner of such a shitty name.

"You know Sakura, Sakura Haruno?"

The voice was uneven, like the guy had just begun the early stages of puberty and his tones hadn't synced. Naruto didn't turn to address him; he shook his head and idly drummed his own against the table.

"Should I know them?" he asked irritably.

"Pink hair, really nice dsl's." Lee described with several concerning breaths. Naruto scoffed out a chuckle .

_Maybe he isn't a faggot after all._

"The girl over there, what about her?"

"She talks a good game but she'll paint your balls blue all night long. She's a tease, man, like it's a hobby."

Hmph.

"Is she?" he asked feigning disinterest, he blandly stared at the chalk board that Iruka approached scrawling almost dramatically over its surface as though he were hashing lines in a jail cell.

"Mhm. Just thought I'd give you the heads-up buddy. Bros before hoes, right." Rock Lee commented in too expressive of a whisper. The guy could have just as well been talking normally.

It was clear to him that this faggot Lee (he had already gotten used to calling him a faggot) had been rejected by the obnoxious whore Sakura. Sakura? That was her name, for real? She even had a cute-whore name to go along with her future profession. Four years from now, provided she hadn't perished at the hands of himself or someone else, he'd be sure to visit the local strip club and pay his respects.

"Thanks bud, I uh-appreciate the tip."

He said back to Lee, hearing the humor in his own voice. It was evident Lee couldn't distinguish the tone, his face lit up in an outrageously smug grin, he even held up a thumb proudly like he had just done Naruto a solid. Like he had just dutifully told his best friend his wife was fucking the mailman.

Naruto felt his brows raised involuntarily, caught off guard by the dramatic reaction. He returned the thumb salute, hoping the freak would go back to normal. When Lee finally got back to work he noted to himself to never praise the guy again. Genuine or not.

A guy like Lee to a girl like Sakura had probably been about as desirable as gizzards were to most people; you looked at gizzards, you take a whiff of them and then you realized you shouldn't have to tolerate this type of food.

_There must be something more out there..._


	2. Fox and Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto has a secret admirer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by phone until I get my hands on a computer. I will fix the errors. Thanks for reading :)

Time had a way of making things repetitive, thus, making life excruciatingly boring as hell for him. He's been in this bedtime town for what? A little over three weeks now? He's come to recognize things as far too painfully familiar; faces, names, shortcuts around town and even voices. He began to blend into the norms of his new reality, like a chameleon that was always conscious of its impending doom but still instinctively changing to prolong it.

Adapting was easy, so much so that he often forgot that he shouldn't become too attach to the simplicity of living this way, even if things did tend to get a little boring.

That's the thing about boredom; you don't fully appreciate all of the nothing you don't have to do, until suddenly there is something you absolutely had to do.

He needed a contingency plan, he couldn't enjoy this boredom without one, a safety net to catch him when he inevitably fucked up.

There were far too many potholes in his fabricated identity to convince him to stop running. If he let his guard down and believed that he had truly gotten away, something-somewhere would catch up to him and remind him just how wrong he was.

Maintaining a convincing lifestyle was essential to the façade he wanted to continue to embody.

He had taken up a job (he didn't need) at a quaint ramen bar in the heart of downtown. He had more than enough money to sit this one out but obviously, someone as young as he would come off suspicious; living comfortably in a home without any source of income. So, he took the initiative to research an affordable place, somewhere secluded but not too distant from campus.

Things had to correlate, he was weaving an entire life out of thin air. A life people would openly spectate and judge because the world was a miserable place where strangers felt entitled to know other strangers.

He knew he couldn't afford to slip up on such trivial things this early on and he had been fairly consistent with his background story and persona. Even thrusting himself into activities he normally wouldn't come close to considering, like joining track. A decision that might've been too out of the way by his standards but it only solidified his story and gave him roots to grow from. It didn't hurt that he was a damn good sprinter and his stamina was second to none on campus. 

The real problem stemmed from within, he was finding it increasingly hard to resist his ungodly hedonistic urges.

The truth of his darkness infected him daily, attempting to drag him under every chance it got but he wasn't quite ready to succumb to its magnetic pull. There was a time where he felt like he had something else living inside of him, fighting to gain access of his body and now he felt almost inseparable with that part of him, with no visible distinction between them.

No, control was not his modus operandi but he had been dealing with himself long enough to know a few methods of stability.

His latest sedatives were; liquor, Sakura(the whore), track (which sometimes made him hornier) and sleep(after two or three tug sessions, a night).

It wasn't much to look forward to but it was something to keep him tapped into anything other than what was going on in the darkest parts of his mind.

Sometimes, even those things lost their luster on him. One day they were completely capable of compelling him to behave-as best he could anyway-and the next, something would trigger his most revered memories of his old life.

A twig snapping under his boot, like the cold snap of someone's brittle neck between his tightly wound fingers. The brute force he'd have to muster up to get that clean a break(the end result was never prestine), although pure adrenaline would probably do the trick. 

_Fuck..._

He thought about someone living and squirming in his concrete hold, pleading with his absent morality. Someone exposing their bare soul, the essence of who they always were. Eyes flashing with mind numbing fear as they try to match his unparalleled strength. It always strikes him as beautiful, the way a single dying stare tries to unravel him, reason with him. It always makes him keep fucking them, even when his dick is flaccid and he's still inside of them. 

_Why the fuck am I thinking about this..._

He would always humor them, let them think he was a misguided soul acting under some strange compulsion. He would beg for their forgiveness, let up slightly from his kill-grip. God, they're always so fucking relieved....and greedily gulping up air, assuring him that they wouldn't tell. Some even laughed thinking they had a life to get back to, it almost felt worthwhile, gazing at the beaming lights of their eyes. And then he snuffed it out, the light. He squeezed really tight, so tight his muscles ached and his heart swelled and his cock would fill them up and he would pull out quickly before he could come.

A horrible way to die, he imagined.

And yet he could think of more ways, that would make the last suggestion preferable.

"Mr. Uzumaki, are you with us?"

Muffled voices, shuffling paper and erratic motions brought him back to where his body currently slouched. Fourth row beside a pineapple haired stoner who smelled like a dead skunk, he was currently passed out. He always was, whoever he was.

"Hi there Mr. Uzumaki?" the professor urged tucking a black lustrous tendril of hair behind her ear. Her brows were high on her forehead as she looked expectantly at Naruto with piercing red-wine eyes.

He was certain this smug bitch knew he had been daydreaming, that's the only reason any teacher decided to fuck with students because when you were prepared it was too inconvenient for them. They needed to catch you slipping as a pupil so that they could teach other pupils how not to pupil.

_She calls me out but not the fuckin slacker snoring-in full glory beside me._

Luckily he had bullshit prepared.

He looked down at his opened workbook which smelled sickeningly new and boring.

"You caught me," he feigned embarrassment, fingers sifting nervously through his damp hair. He left his hands in his hair, propping his elbows on the desk, "I guess I've been reading ahead through chapter three. I was intrigued about-a couple of things, things really get good..."

The professor was a friggin hot ass milf. He had always been blind to age and he never restricted himself to just one type of food. He ate around, as often as he could.

A week ago, she had been swollen like a ripe peach ready to detonate but he still found her very sexy. Her body had probably been imperfect now; stained with stretchmarks and curves that varied greatly from the original structure of most women who hadn't undergone as strenuous a change as giving birth.

Her breast were probably still swollen and lactating, yummy. He had never messed around with a body in that state but he wouldn't rule it out either.

"I'm pleased that you have such a high opinion on the matter! Would you mind, engaging in an off-book explanation on chapter three?" She inquired, a tilt to her head as she fastened a calculating look to him, "just to, you know, enlighten us for a bit."

_Sexy, fucking, bitch..._

With a sigh, he sat up straight and glanced around. The class seemed to have gone stagnant. Everyone was looking directly at him as though he were the guest of honor and speaker at his own funeral. Even the girls who usually shied away from his intimidatingly blue eyes were pinning their prying irises on him.

He couldn't help but to confuse everyone with a little cunning smile.

This bitch had given them all a reason to blatantly ogle him without coming off as creepy and they were soaking it up. He should have been used to it by now, the stares, eyes were naturally drawn to him which made things increasingly difficult to manage. He wasn't sure if it was due to the distinctive whisker-birthmarks on either side of his cheek or because of his head of pale-blonde hair. He doubted the latter, he wasn't the only blond waltzing around the joint.

Naruto's eyes traveled back to the professor, whose name he still hadn't bothered to remember.

His eyes fell to the hurried cadence of her olive skinned neck and just like that, he slipped again.

He blamed the Sakura.

If he could get hours at a time of that whore sucking him off, maybe then, he wouldn't be zoning out so often thinking of...

Taking the honed tip of a knife to his humanities professor and personally branding his opinions of chapter three right into her delicate jugular.

An ivy-green vein had been protruding and throbbing so fiercely beneath the skin of her lovely neck, it unnerved him to no end. His heart convulsed like a creature trying to flee his chest and for the first time in weeks he felt a twinge of exuberance.

His cock began to swell in his pants and he knew there was only a matter of time before he lost his handle on things.

"Professor Kurenai, m-m-may I elaborate on the chapter?"

His eyes snapped up in a confused daze, he had broken out in a cold sweat of some sort. His shirt was sticking to his spine and his dick was straining against his zipper.

_What the hell?_

He could only see the trembling form of someone in a hoody-standing. A few people began to chortle for reasons he couldn't fully comprehend and he didn't care.

He had dodged a bullet.

"Oh, Hinata, what a pleasant surprise! Go right ahead sweetie. As for you Mr. Uzuamki, from now on I'd like you to a have a seat right here," She was patting a chair next to the hoody girl. "Next to Miss. Hyuga. She doesn't bite and she's a sweetheart, so, up-up-up."

Fuck.

************

Sakura [10:15 p.m] Meant to text u earlier baby, I got so wrapped up in my own mess with daddies little whores. He had the nerve to bring some ugly young thot into the mansion. She could be my age! Ugh-whatevrr, anyway I can't do tonight, so raincheck? R u mad? 

Me [10:25 p.m] Nah, you're going to make it up to me right now...send nudes or videos. Or both, both is good. ;)

Sakura [10:27 p.m] Freak ass! Why the hell should I make it up? I've done nothing wrong. 

Me[10:30 p.m] Its wrong that you aren't here, letting me finger fuck that juicy piece of cunt after the day that I've had.

Sakura [10:31 p.m] omg, ur so gross...that wasn't even why I agreed to come over in the first place.

Me [10:32 p.m] Really? I guess the translation was lost while you had your mouth full...my bad. 

Sakura [10:33 p.m] Fuck you Naruto. >:(

Me [10:33 p.m] haha, c'mon I'm just fuckin around...not about the nudes though. I'm sorry your dad likes to fuck people your age...if that's what's bothering you. He's a geriatric fuck, let him get it in while he's still alive.

Sakura [10:42 p.m] lmfao. I hate u. It's not like u deserve it but maybe I'll send u something u pig.

****

It was not anger that he felt when he waited and waited for Sakura the whore to appear at his house that night. It was…disappointment, in himself. What the fuck was that airhead really up to? He had a mind to rip down the streets of her suburban home and drag her out by her throat, but his fingers remained constricted on the wheel of his car. He had long since been home.

It was dark out, no stars in sight, the dim moon crescent in the distance. The streetlight had been the only beacon of hope that lit the very vacant street.

"Stupid ass bitch." He murmured without passion as he snatched the car key from the ignition and slid out of his car-which smelled of chicken broth and curry. He had still been wearing his work clothes; some black slacks and a white chef's jacket that shrunk every wash it survived. Ichiraku's was a good gig and Teuchi wasn't a stick-up-the-ass boss. Plus, he didn't know how or why but he was beginning to develop a hankering for those shitty noodles-they were an acquired taste.

Any job that allowed him to keep it-after he threatened to punch a customer in the esophagus, was worth hanging onto for someone like him.

After slinging his heavy backpack over a slumped shoulder, he treaded haggardly towards his little home that stood between two thick barked trees. The neighborhood was quiet and bare, occupied mostly by people who would rather spend the night at work instead of going home to the fuckin houses they paid an arm and a leg for.

An annoying creature buzzed in his ear and he slapped himself, crushing it against his face. Yes, he could have waved it away but how would it know to never fuck with him again? Thoughts it could ponder in hell or wherever annoying buzzing creatures went to when they died.

Little fucker.

If he was being completely honest with himself, the thing with Sakura was getting boring, faggot brows was right-who'd a thunk? That hairy-pussy browed son of a bitch might have gone down this dry path before.

Needless to say, the girl was the biggest professional cocktease, to have ever teased. She invented reasons to not show up or simply pulled the shit she did tonight. She never wanted to shed clothes and show some ass and baby-tits but she'd suck his cock in a heartbeat. He didn't have any complaints about that but it wasn't cutting it for him. It just wasn't enough. Simply put. His patience was wearing thin.

He didn't like being strung along like someone's plaything, especially when he didn't have a say in the matter of what gets to be played with.

If she thought that playing hard to get would make him stick around and pine after her like some love sick pup, she was sadly mistaken.

Maybe it was time for him to consider a little snack, until he figured out what punishment he'd mete out to that pompous little whore. Though he didn't need to think deeply to know, just what made Sakura a goal for him. She was exactly the type of girl who deserved every bad thing they got.

The fact that the universe allowed them to cross paths was no mere mistake to him.

His lip quirked up thoughtfully, a low breath slid from his lips and he could taste blood in his mouth.

As he approached the steps of his home he spotted a paper bag on the top step. The air smelled of lilac and ivy. He took the steps quickly, looking suspiciously from one end of the street to the other. He noticed a purple construction paper with elegantly neat scrawl.

"The hell.."

He tugged it from beneath the wrinkled bag and brought it to his face. The paper itself looked like it's primal function was origami. The text had been formal, with hard hash marks throughout some words. He was caught off guard with a shiny bunny sticker over his name-written with way too many swirls. It was as though it had been practiced so often it became calligraphy. He never knew someone could write his name better than him.

The wind wafted, an aroma of lilac faintly touched his nostrils.

_Naruto-kun,_

_Please, don't be frightened, I know your address._

He felt like laughing but he read on, curiosity alight in his groggy eyes.

_Thank you, for saving me, before. Maybe you don't remember._

__

__

_I've been watching you, from a distance._

_You're lucky everyone seems to worship you, you've become very popular here and I should hate you-like I hate everyone else but I don't._

_Well, this letter isn't to tell you what you already know, it's to connect us._

_I want something from you..._

_For now, I'll tell you what I think about you._

_Every time I see you I get incredibly wet. I am constantly wet in my panties all day thinking about what it must feel like...being naked against you or your mouth on every inch of my body._

_I get so worked up that I can't survive the school day without going to the restroom and playing with myself. Thinking about giving you pleasure, deep throating your cock, letting you fuck into my mouth, painting my insides with your cum. I want your cum._

_I crave you more than anything in this world. I want you so bad...and so deep. Coming to the thought of you makes me so weak that I scream your name, after every release._

_I know that I should be ashamed to admit any of this. I should hate you...but I can't._

_I never felt more alive knowing that, you'll read this and you'll know that someone is madly in love with you._

_I would do anything for you, anything you asked of me. Maybe one day, you'll discover me and maybe you'll be like every one else in this town but you saved me once. It was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me...thank you._

_Love, (Another damn glossy white rabbit sticker_

_Ps-Use what's in the bag and return it. Our secret._

He stood there, frozen for a split second letting that entire mystery stew in his speeding brain.

Should I be worried? Probably not but shit.

Someone knew where he lived other than Sakura, though she had never physically came to his lair. This could be problematic in the near future, though right now, he couldn't find a flaw in it.

With a swallow, he pivoted from left to right, eyes scanning every nook and cranny as far as the light could reach.

A little bunny, sniffing around his foxhole with pure declarations she couldn't possibly mean.

He eyed the purple index card and pressed it to his nose,he sniffed. He could smell a dampness, taste salt on his lips.

His cock ticked faintly and he placed a hand over it to confirm that he had a full growing erection. He crouched to grab the brown paper bag, it was hot and powdery.

He shook it against his ear cautiously and determined it was way too soft to be threatening. He shrugged. At least he'd die young and innocent-for the first five or so days before they realized who he really was.

The paper rustled nosily in the perpetual night, once he had unfurled it he reached in and hot silk slithered over his knuckles and fingertips. The lingering heat of the person who delivered it still radiated in the bag, all of his senses prickled with a searing type of desire.

His body trembled darkly.

He extracted a pair of red silky panties, but what really fucked him up was that his fingertips were coated in the slick-richness of this bunny's warm juices.

A snack landed in his lap.


	3. Truths and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto discovers the identity of his bunny.

Who could she be? It's probably best that he doesn't know.

Against his better judgement, he had allowed the exchanges to go on. Was it any surprise that he would? Probably not.

"Naruto-kun, I've never been with a man before. When I see you I just can't help but wonder what it would be like? Will it hurt? Maybe you couldn't fit in my tight-wet hole. It both frightens and excites me, but you seem gentle. However I have this fantasy of sucking you off, in front of the entire school. I don't care who sees…"

Sakura perused the letter, revulsion evident on her face, as she did so. Her glossy lips were twisted so firmly it appears she had tasted something sour.

"Be careful what you wish for." The bedraggled blonde stated ominously at the last passage, reaching out to squeeze one of the mediocre tits in front of him.

He had to give the whore credit, she might've lacked the quantity but she always made it a point to produce a quality display. She was wearing a strappy pink top that hung low just over her hardened nipples.

He knew it would take but one tug to expose her pert nipples but he had no interest in being slapped this early in the morning. He may even retaliate this time with something not so restrained.

"Cut it out Naruto," She ordered, shifting her chest away from his fingers. "This kind of desperation really irks me!"

The irony.

They were on the front steps of his house, the sun pale and less nauseating than it had been when he first opened the door. He had spent the prior day cleaning the basement and readying it for the near future that suddenly seemed within reach.

He wasn't expecting her to show this morning, neither was he expecting her to be a snoopy bitch either but here she was; investigating his mail as though it were her own.

She scowled at the purple scented sheet of paper his bunny had specifically assigned for his eyes only. Her pupils seemed to narrow as she whispered unintelligibly, eyes downcast.

"What're you so strung out about? It's harmless." He assured her with a lazy shrug. He stood in the doorway, partially dressed, jeans loosely hanging off his hips. He made sure he donned a shirt on the way out, there were parts of him, even Sakura hadn't encountered. 

He placed a palm over his shirted stomach. He could feel the raised flesh of the burnt insignia around his belly button. A mark that never delivered on it's promise. It only served as a reminder of all he went through, it was the physical presence of his fucked up childhood burned into him forever.

"How can you afford to act so cavalier about this? This is stalking. A crime-or it should be. This ballsy skank knows where you live."

His eyes snapped up, for a moment he forgot she had been there.

With a ragged sigh, he began to adjust his faded jeans around his hips, legs slightly apart. He peered at Sakura's rewarding snarl of a face, she looked absolutely capable of starting a cat fight should she ever find his bunny.

"Jealousy is beneath you, ya?" he baited, his breathy voice coated with amusement. The girl rolled her eyes and turned the paper over to pick up where she left off.

"I'd do whatever you ask of me. I want nothing in return, I can be whoever you want-whoever you need,"

"Is it essential that you read the whole thing babe, what's that going to solve? Other than you giving a sheet of paper the evil eye."

The more she read, the more her nostrils seemed to flair. There was a vein steadily pouncing beneath the skin of her temple, her wide forehead creased with furious lines.

He enjoyed it and he knew his comments only enraged her more.

Looking down near his foot, he spotted a small crinkled brown paper bag. This would be the icing on the cake. He knew exactly what it would contain. He contemplated kicking it off the terrace, if only to avoid going through the motions of some sort of couple-which, they weren't.

He concluded that's exactly why he shouldn't feel the need to hide it. Maybe this bit of jealousy could even benefit him.

She could use a healthy dose of insecurity, so he could pluck some strings in that pea sized brain of hers.

So it was settled. He would do nothing to spare her from seeing what his bunny had sent him, this was her own fault afterall. He scoffed at the inner workings of his mind and bit into his hollow cheek.

"For every time that I burst-touching myself to the thought of you, I'll send you a treat. I hope you enjoy it and return them back to me. I'm looking forward to your gift as well. With love, your bunny."

She concluded, enunciating bunny bitterly.

Her brow twitched with what he could only assume was pointless rage. There was no doubt about it, the whore was sexy but her attitude completely diminished that attribute. Gorgeous girls had the most feral attitudes.

Almost everything that came out of her mouth seemed to indicate how vapid and vain she truly was. She was a one-dimensional whore who got bent out of shape when known couples didn't harmonize their colors correctly.

As if it were up to her to set every record straight but her own. She was truly incapable of seeing any flaws within herself and that's what made her a rotten, rotten girl.

He was surprised he had adopted the patience to tolerate someone who bent to the standards of society so limberly.

Still, she has her uses.

One of which, helped him to blend into school so easily. Sakura hadn't been the most popular girl but by guy standards she was a trophy; one that he had gained with only one foot through the door. He was praised by his peers, well-the ones that counted anyway. It would be a shame to call himself lucky, since half the guys in school had shared the same mouth he was now utilizing but this is what made him appear average. Following a senseless act that seemingly anyone could pull off.

"I can't even began to process what the hell, I just read."

"I have a feeling you're goin to try." he remarked flippantly.

"How pathetic does she have to be to say these sort of things to someone she doesn't even know!"

As pathetic as you'd have to be to let someone you don't know, jam his cock down your throat I bet.

He shrugged, squinting against the sunlight. He raked his eyes along the deserted neighborhood, not a car appeared to be parked.

If he wanted to, he could reach out and choke her slender throat. Just enough to make her pass out. No one would hear her muffled screams or see her flailing body. He could take her to the basement. He could set this whole thing into motion and settle for brief satisfaction.

No.

He had to tell himself. This was the kind of premature thinking he couldn't succumb to. He had a plan,he had one the very first day he met his first victim in this town. She deserved a deadline and not a rushed encounter.

He had been keeping a close eye on his old hometown, they were still scrambling for answers, regarding his identity. Thankfully they hadn't been any closer to finding it than they were when he fled.

It would be too soon to start doing things here.

"-complete stranger!"

Sakura voice fought it's way into his consciousness, finishing a rant he wasn't aware of.

"She goes to our school, so she must have some idea of who I am." He replied casually for conversation sake, otherwise she might have grown another pea sized brain and realized that he enjoyed being stalked.

It had proven itself to be a kink among the other terrible kinks he harbored.

"She doesn't know anything," Sakura argued as though the very idea of someone knowing him, was an insult, "she's just your state-of-the-art basic skank, wanting what isn't hers. She doesn't even have the balls to reveal her real name. She's probably an obese-virgin shit, riddled with blackheads and blemishes!" the whore fumed like she would burst into senile laughter at any moment.

She tossed her hair out of her face, the wind defiantly tousled it back.

Even god detested the woman.

"How long have you been getting this filth?"

She demanded to know, waving the purple paper in front of him. Her face had been contorted with genuine anger. It seemed displaced on her, she was always badly pretending to be a certain way. Acting as though she didn't care whether he came or went.

It was a pleasant surprise, knowing this appeared to be bothering her.

Much like her unwillingness to let him have his way, bothered him at one point.

"Today's the first." He lied, sweeping his tongue against the wall of blood inside his cheek.

The taste was tangy and rich.

"We should at least notify one of the professors." She claimed urgently, staring the whiskered young man earnestly in the face. Her fake lashes fluttering as she blinked profusely with expectations.

He laughed like an automation.

She went from one fucking extreme to the next.

"C'mon, I told you before, I can fight my own battles. Nobody launches a full-scale investigation over something this insignificant. You're reading a bit too much into it, I know you think all of this," he began to flex the prominent woven muscles of his arms, "is just advertisement but it's not. Nobody's going to bother me, even if it's advertisement-it looks pretty fuckin convincing, right?"

He used to be very scrawny and uncoordinated. He quickly realized no one would take him seriously, so, during his downtime he developed a passion to train rigorously.

The girl gave a reluctant smile, although he knew she'd continue to be petty and egotistical about the situation. She couldn't help herself, someone else was trying to steal her attention and suddenly being stingy with her pussy didn't seem like such a wise decision. Someone else had come into the picture offering up their pussy, like a holy sacrifice under a blood moon.

"God dammit," she sighed, "I guess I just got a little overprotective."

I guess I just realized I'm not the only slut in the world.

"Just let it go, it's probably just some fuckin' prank."

He didn't feel threatened by this, in-fact, his stalker neutralized his cravings. This couldn't have happened at a better time. There was something alluring about someone who dedicated themselves to being a mystery and selfishly staying that way.

This was such a roundabout way to avoid approaching someone and yet it was the most creative way anyone had ever come to him-without directly coming to him. They knew better than to approach him in an everyday setting, which proved that Sakura might've been right about their less-than-stellar appearance.

His naughty little bunny planned everything strategically, they plotted around the times he attended classes or clocked out of work. He had never run into her-not once, not even on the days he attempted to.

For once, someone else was the mystery.

"Whatever," She shrugged a single bony shoulder, chewing gum as she often did, secretly. "I can't say that I won't be on the lookout for the thirsty skank. Just because you want to keep quiet doesn't mean I can't have my own fun."

"Knock yourself out." He stated indifferently.

She frowned at his meager reaction, crossing her bangled, hissing arms under her tits, they bounced but they didn't quite jiggle.

Here we go.

"So you're gonna stand there and tell me that you're not even the least bit curious of who this fugly-bitch could be?" She asked deadpanned, a silent fury active in those quizzical eyes of hers, "you don't even seem that surprised about it. Is this the type of stuff that gets your dick hard? You know it wouldn't surprise me, you can be a pig sometimes."

You have no idea. Not yet.

Naruto knew what she wanted, what could easily shut down this whole ordeal. Praise. Girls like Sakura liked to be fed with compliments and transient assurances.

"For the love of god, babe, it's not like that. The letter is freakin pathetic, not even worth my opinion or you acknowledgement. I can't even believe you seriously think any of that stuff gets me hard-nobody in this town can compete with you," he said gesturing towards her. "I mean look at you, you're the real deal-I lose my breath every day I get to look at you."

Her gleaming emerald eyes lingered on him for a short moment before flickering down at his feet. The paper bag seemed to reflect in the glassiness of her eyes.

Dundundun.

She pointed a smokey polished finger at it.

"There, what's that, does this bitch deliver food too?" Her eyes darted sideways, in an effort to reign in her true impulses.

"Didn't even notice that." He uttered trying to erase the familiarity of this situation from his voice, though his blood boiled beneath his skin in anticipation. 

He picked it up and twisted the bag around for added effect. He began to unravel it, rolling it open with careful hands hoping to drag out Sakura's anxiety.

The girl squirmed impatiently like a child on the brink of pissing their pants, her perfectly arched brows furrowed in concentration.

They both peered inside the bag and spotted something frilly and beige tucked into a corner. A pungent feminine musk wafted into his nostrils and he felt his cock shift to stone. A jolt of pleasure sprung through his brain like a silver bullet.

"Are you fucking kidding me, soiled thongs!?" She retched, placing a palm over her mouth to stifle her exaggerated reaction.

He quickly rolled the bag up before the aroma could flee it entirely. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to look uncomfortably flattered.

That was enough, he had his fun fooling around with Sakura. She looked devastated and he very much enjoyed making her realize that she wasn't an only option, she was just the preferred one, for now anyway.

His bunny offered him a good mystery and an escape in his time of need. Sakura, however, was visible. Visible-tits, mouth and pussy. He couldn't risk misplacing her after he had gotten this far and worked this hard to look like the perfect picture of health.

He had to assure this bitch that his attention would never waver, even though it had.

"Hey-hey." He said softly, reaching a hand out to thumb at her hardened jawline. "You're acting really jealous over nothing. I've only got eyes for you and I promise you, some dirty panties and a few nasty words aren't going to go to my head."

He stared immensely into her eyes, hoping she could read the fake emotions he was trying to emit through a single lying gaze. Once her glossy rosy lips quirked up, he knew he had delivered an amazing performance.

"So, don't worry your pretty little head." He added, smiling as kindly as he could.

She seemed reluctant to dismiss the entire subject. Eventually she melted under his unwavering gaze and nodded, the wind tossed her peachy hair just slight enough to mesmerize him for a moment.

"Fine." She whined, rolling her eyes as though she were still hurt for some reason.

Of course, Sakura knew nothing about real pain. Yet.

"Go start the car," He instructed, fishing the keys out of the back pocket of his jeans and dunking them into her palm, "I'll toss these out and get my stuff, meet you in the car?" He asked, tightly holding the bag at his side. He didn't know why today of all days, she wanted to carpool with him, she and the Yamanaka girl normally arrived and left school together.

If he didn't know any better he'd say that Sakura had probably been into experimenting with girls too but he figured maybe that was just his mind getting away from him. He wanted to think she was more interesting than she really was.

She stared skeptically into his eyes for a moment, she then leaned in gingerly to bite his bottom lip and then she kissed it sensually. She peppered kisses to his ear.

"I want it in my mouth so don't keep me waiting, whiskers." She drawled, taking a step backwards down the stairs.

He hated that lame moniker, his birthmark had always made it easy for people to try and stick him with that shitty excuse of a nickname. How uncreative but this was Sakura.

The keys jingled in her clutch as she struts down the pavement in her stilted heels. He was sure she thought she was being sexy, he stood and watched just to keep her thinking that he thought so too.

Once she disappeared around the curve, he twisted and stepped through the threshold. He slammed his back against the cold wood of the door and it closed with a paralyzing click. He opened the bag and reached inside to procure the damp, skimpy panties.

A pressure grappled his cock and he felt like an addict feening for his fix.

Fuck, they're still warm.

His fingers felt something slick, he dropped the bag too engrossed in his exploration. He found something thick and warm, he began to finger its sloppy trail.

They were always heavily soaked with richness. That's part of what blew his mind.

She must've dropped it off not too long ago. Sakura probably walked right past her and didn't even know.

His heart was hammering in his chest, his cock was hard enough to crack a peanut.

A delicious tingle roamed the tensed muscles of his abdomen, impatience shook every nerve in his body and he worked his pants down with one dexterous hand.

The delicate material of the panties slid over his knuckles like a dangerous whisper that meant to lure him into the heart of hell. He prodded the creamy seat with his middle fingers patiently, each stroke left him more and more breathless as he watched his fingers mingle with the juices.

"Fuck." He uttered thickly, angling his hips as he tugged his pants and briefs just below his loaded cock, so aroused it curved slightly, a bead of pearl along the slit.

Normally he'd torture himself to prolong busting but he couldn't risk that whore in the car crashing his release so he slipped his veiny throbbing cock through one of the leg orifices of the material. A shiver took his spine with a deep sense of longing.

He became conscious of his short breaths the moment he felt the warm nectar in the panties soaking his engorged erection.

"Uh.."

His head bumped back against the door and he jerked himself vigorously, eyes closed. His fingers gliding over the veiny surface, easily twisting his firm hold over the head. A few agressive pumps in he could smell that aroma again; like scented soap, cinnamon and worked pussy. It almost made him salivate. He worked his hips tirelessly feeling a type of energy surging violently through his bloodstream.

He bit down on his lip until his irregular canine teeth punctured his lip, he snarled. His whole body seemed to tighten like a fist, his muscles and veins protruded beneath his skin like threaded iron. He cracked his eyes open slightly to focus on the material of the thongs shifting against his thrumming meat.

Almost, there-fuck...

He could feel it coming. His breath grew labored, his fingers grew eager, he stroked faster picturing a mouth waiting to eagerly accept his load.

Preferably his bunny's mouth, waiting to be irredeemably dirty.

He conveyed the imagine of an unnamed face and a plump set of lips wanting to be marked. He could hear her voice through those letters, coaxing him to cum in her mouth, though he needed no convincing.

He imagined his hand locked around the nape of her neck to keep her in place, her head trapped against the wall so she had no choice but to confront the way he would mercilessly use her mouth and throat to satisfy himself.

She wouldn't want him then, would she?

That had him undone. The mere thought of his bunny's eyes glistening with tears, as she tried-feebly to accommodate his every thrust.

His abdomen constricted and he froze, his cock twitched and he shifted the panties to catch the load, cupping them in the palm of his hand. He couldn't believe how much he was coming. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration he had accumulated just this morning. Who was he kidding? He hadn't even come this much from Sakura's blowjobs. This was entirely different.

He could feel the slit of his cock spurt, soaking the panties. Jizz trickled down the hilt of his hand. The frilly panties were shrouded over his spent organ a moment later. He lingered there for a moment, letting their juices marinate.

Taking a deep breath, he reached down stiffly to grab the bag. After a final wipe at his palm and wrist he tossed the demolished panties into the bag.

His cock slapped heavily up against his inner thigh and he rolled up the bag, visibly winded. His tongue prodded his busted lip, though his taste buds craved more then what a small wound could offer.

Fuck, that was good.

He didn't wash his bunny's juices off himself. He had this funny idea of making Sakura taste her on him.

After getting fully dressed and closing the door behind him. He took the stairs by two and placed the bag on the very last step. It never stayed on the last step, whenever he came home a new bag that contained another model would be on the top step.

*****

Did he want to know her?

Part of what made this so exciting was the mystery of it all. Unmasking his bunny would only give her a name, a purpose and a position she wouldn't be able to live up to-provided he even took an interest in her, outside of sex.

This seemed highly unlikely because chances are she was very sane and very mistaken about his character. She just didn't know how wrong she was.

His bunny must feel drunken with power. She had gotten him to engage in this game, which told him she must have-to a certain extent- had some idea regarding his sexual addiction. Which also told him, she was very observant. Maybe too observant.

He scoffed, though a fluttery laugh touched his chest.

No, he didn't want to know who she was.

She wouldn't be able to live up to his wildest expectations, she wouldn't be able to live-point blink.

He would hurt her the moment she became a chore to him. She thought he was a generous person, she'd die knowing that not only was he not generous-but he wasn't a person either. He was the demon that would ravage her body and make her bleed while doing so.

Pain and pleasure, it wasn't often that people found them compatible. His poetic bunny wanted all the pleasure but none of the pain. He wanted to rip into her flesh until her screams deafened his ears.

He wanted her to cry and fight and claw against the cold basement floor until her voice withered and her soul tried to escape her body.

He sighed, fighting a smirk that had finally won.

"N-n-naruto-kun, excuse me, can I get to my seat please?"

He looked up and spotted the hoody standing in the aisle. Looking the part of a natural born victim, he had known since the moment he laid eyes on her baggy hoody that she was often victimized. She was a strange and submissive girl who was just asking to be bullied, so it was no surprise when he saw her being cornered and tormented around campus. He always thought it was a bit too high school but looking at her now, he could see why she was such an easy target.

Vultures went after dead meat that couldn't fight back. He, however, liked a decent woman who swung at him every once in awhile. One who liked to be promiscuous strictly for him.

Her eyes were downcast like a terrified servant and her bangs were shielding them.

He had never seen any fleshy parts of her, her hoody and hair kept her shielded from prying eyes though that never prevented him from trying.

She was the one girl in their college that wore the same thing every day and lurked around the professors often, he suspected to avoid getting her ass kicked.

Normally he wouldn't dwell on such a small encounter but he could still hear her timid voice in his head.

Naruto-Kun.

His skin felt icy, he slowly stood to his feet, further blocking her from her destination.

It can't be? That wasn't possible.

No one had ever referred to him that formally, no one except his bunny.

But that couldn't be hoody girl. No, it couldn't be. His bunny was beyond sexy, she was an unselfish person who put his needs before her own. This girl in front of him, she couldn't possibly began to understand his bunny, it didn't seem like she even understood herself.

This could just be a coincidence.

He told himself. He knew he had the tendency to jump to conclusions to quickly rectify them.

"What did you call me?" he inquired in a very coolly voice, though his insides were anything but. It seemed like the question came out of his mouth an eternity ago and still, no answer.

Hoody girl began to hyperventilate like some type of dying psycho, her shoulders were moving rapidly-rising and falling. Something in her pockets rattled like a horde of snakes. She flatted a quaking hand to her chest as if to stop her heart from exploding.

He furrowed a brow.

What the fucking-fuck is this chicks problem?

He looked over his shoulder and around the empty classroom. Things wouldn't go down this way, he'd just apologize to stop her hysterical behavior. He took a step closer and then another before he stopped. A distinctive smell invaded his senses.

He could smell the potent aroma of lilac bleeding into his nostrils. Her reaction suddenly made a hell of a lot more sense.

His heart beat stopped for half a second and sped up. He burst out laughing. The laugh surprised even him but he was truly incapable of any rational actions. It was either laughter or violence and he knew he couldn't casually drag a limp body through the halls.

Thankfully no one-not even the professor arrived to class on time, so no one was around to witness this crack in his facade. This chink he allowed into his armor.

No one but he and this imitation.

"Naruto-kun, I c-c-can explain!" She began tearfully and for the first time, those eyes met his. They looked iridescent for a moment. Moisture began to pool just below her pale irises and her lips trembled, like she was on the verge of crying.

He was stunned, to say the least, this crazy bitch was stunning. Those eyes were so huge and deep, like pools of unadulterated smoke. The fear they reflected sent all types of jagged waves down his ridged form.

"I'm going to-"he began mechanically, raising his trembling-with-intention fingers towards her, his heart felt menacing and he couldn't even pretend to know what he was doing. Or why he was doing it. A daze seemed to take his mind and everything that could throb in his body, began doing so at the same time, like one big annoying function.

No one was around to stop him and the hoody girl seemed like she would capitulate nicely. He had every right to punish her, for tricking him that way-for making him think that she could possibly be his equal. His inspiration that stalled his mounting blood lust.

This was exactly why he didn't want to know! This fell short of everything he had ever imagined his bunny to be. Hoody girl hadn't even made it to his lowest expectations list. He doubted she occupied a spot on anyone's list.

Of all the things that could have stopped him from doing what he was about to do, none of them could roar over the sound of the one thought telling him to grab her.

"Please," She pleaded as though she could truly see everything he was thinking. Her eyes darting towards the door, her wild breathing subsided just enough to get words out.

It was exactly as he thought she'd be. A punk. Just like everyone else, who finally saw the not so charming side of him.

"I don't want you to get in trouble over me, Naruto-kun," She explained softly. "I know you're upset- I'm not what you expected and I'll accept the consequences. Whatever you choose to do with me, I deserve it. We can meet somewhere after class, I won't run."

I won't let you.

His fingers froze over her bowing head, he hadn't even realized she had moved to submit to him.

"The bathroom inside of the old science building," He says. "Be there."

An urgent clucking of heels bounced around the hall and a moment later someone shuffled into the classroom in a haze of French fragrance and syrup. 

"Mr. Uzumaki and Ms. Hyuga, Good morning! Is there something I should be concerned about?" The humanities professor asked, on her way to her cluttered desk.

Neither student turned to greet their teacher or even acknowledge that she was there.


	4. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto uncovers the real truth about his bunny and finds it hard to ignore his bestial desires.

He predatorially pursued her down the hall through tunneled vision. He almost lost the scent of her fear when his, "friends" intercepted his hunt with invitations to lunch. He declined charismatically, with a lie about having plans. They voiced their shallow assumptions that he was going to fuck someone and he didn't deny it. Doing so would have only encouraged them to keep guessing idiotically and he didn't have the tolerance nor the time to pretend. They seemed pretty content, with his noncommittal retreat.

Eventually her dark head of hair resurfaced when he reached the yawing rays of the outdoors.

He was half expectant that she'd sense the danger and bolt the moment class concluded.

It's been while since he played cat and mouse but he stretched his limbs out in preparation, in case the sniveling little mouse decided to make things difficult. There was a small thrill growing inside of him at the thought of her blatantly lying to him and making a run for it. Yet, instead, the girl hastened obediently to the deserted science building where he strongly advised her to be.

She was conceding so hopelessly, he almost felt like he was the one walking into a trap.

He kept his eyes pried for the whore or any of her minions hoping to catch him in some type of condemnable act. Chances are, the bitch was still "injured", after the events that occurred this morning. Her bloodhounds were probably snarling at any girl who wrote in cursive. The hounds were probably hoping to police him for brownie points or to win their souls back from their lord and savior. Sakura had probably begun a whole witch hunt for the girl he now walked behind.

Fuck.

A smile quirked up at one corner of his lip. She would be livid, if she ever found out. She would lose it for good and her body would be his for the taking. Literally. The thought warmed his cock. Finally dragging her unconscious body down the rickety steps of his basement.

All in due time, the end will justify the means. That much was absolute.

Their unsynchronized footfalls echoed around the vacant halls of the science building. The interior drab and stale, the air thick with sawdust. There were disassembled desk parts littered on the outskirts of the hallway wall.

He recalled faggot brows telling him about some pyro that started a fire in chem and how the flames almost looked black. He felt like Lee might've overexaggerated (or hallucinated from the toxic gasses) the details since the place was still standing. On its last legs but standing none-the-less. Suffice it to say, faggot brows was a very theatrical tour guide. Try as he might to get the school to assign him a different usher, they insisted he was in good hands with Lee.

The guy was the proverbial cockroach that survived the nuclear warfare of this college. He had stories for days; none of which, were interesting and none about him. And though he looked like the perfect candidate to rough up, everyone seemed to keep their distance from the guy-like he was the plague. Naruto felt that was the real mystery of this school. Faggot brows getting a free pass to roam the halls with that shitty haircut and those thick pubic brows attached over his eyes. He felt terrorized just looking at those things.

The brilliance of the sun contrasted the dark eerie ambiance inside; a pale beam glinted through the window at the far end of the hall. He kicked away the glinting gold wrapper of a discarded condom and a few steps later came across the mangled product. The science building might have been closed but this place was still ground zero for experiments.

The hoodie came to a stop and slowly twisted around, her shoulders seemed to stiffen when she caught sight of him, emerging from the darkened hallway like a nocturnal demon. The dim greenish lights near the restroom illuminated her.

Would she run now? She sure as hell wouldn't get far. He was willing to bet his life on it.

He lengthened his stride, hearing the muffle of voices from one end or the other. He didn't have time for this shit. The bathroom in this crumby building was reserved by him this period and no one could tell him otherwise.

*****

Wasn't it just this morning? He was reclined in the driver's seat of his car, in the student parking lot ignoring the laborious mouth and tongue that laved over his cock. In that moment, he predicted today would be smooth sailing, he would have control over his actions and no matter what-at least he'd have a treat to come home to. An unharmable outlet that wouldn't damage the reputation he had been slaving to maintain. Today, he thought, would be an average day.

In light of the recent turn of events, he was beginning to realize he had grossly exaggerated his earlier prognosis.

He wasn't meaning to shove her, in fact, he consciously ordered himself to give her a little nudge. Of course, it didn't go that way and he simply accepted that none of his actions would be slight. He could live with that.

She stumbled through the sturdy door and collapsed like dead weight onto the linoleum of the men's restroom.

He was relieved to know there was a lock he could put to use, he did so immediately, taking a deep breath and trying to sooth his agitated mind. He wagged his anxious fingers, his heart burning through his skin like a furious candle flame through parchment.

Nerves ticked sporadically, paranoia breathed down his neck like a starving beast craving his acknowledgement.

He'd just see what she knew. She had his address, that alone gave him reason enough to interrogate her.

"Sorry about that," He offered the girl behind him. "You're a lot lighter than you look."

He turns around from the door to watch her scramble around on hand and knee. Her fingers sprawled and shook lethargically against the ground as she grabbed at multiple orange pill bottles; rolling and rattling noisily just out of reach. She snatched up what she could wildly, trying to retrieve and pocket them hurriedly. It's like she had something to hide.

What a fuckin junkie. A victim through and through. She looked absolutely deranged. No doubt, it was pretty damn pathetic but if she didn't stand up for herself, why should anyone have her back?

With a long-winded sigh, he yanked at the jeaned knees of his pants and crouched down in front of her to observe. She hardly even noticed him in her plight of retrieval. He stole one of the pill bottles and read the prescription label tauntingly.

"Hyuga, Hinata. Take two ever- "he squinted at the blurred, bold print, attempting to read.

She gasped sharply, as if someone poured a bucket of artic water down her back. She lashed out to snatch her precious pills. Naruto moved out of the way with ease.

"Are these fuckin placebos? The shits are all scratched out, how the hell do you even know what you're jamming down your throat, huh?" He inquired shaking the bottle against his ear.

This is exactly the kind of blind faith in doctors that got people killed. He never enjoyed trips to the hospital as a child and eventually his parents stopped taking him altogether. Without antibiotics, it would take him months to recover from an average sickness. His parents were always too wrapped up in their own mess to even notice when he wasn't feeling so hot.

He looked her over; her eyes misty and wet, her brows furrowed. Her lips trembled and he rolled his eyes. For fucks sake, she really was a whiner. On top of all the cons, here was one more to add to the roster.

As much as he would have liked to continue to fuck with her emotions, he decided this would all be wasteful entertainment if he didn't get to the bottom of things.

He tossed the pills at her with a crooked smile, the bottle bouced off her shoulder and rolled across the ground. She didn't move to obtain it, she just sat there, staring off to the side of him.

"So-so, serious. Gotta say, I thought you'd be more enthusiastic to talk with me, especially after having so much to write about. Was I wrong?"

Her eyes flickered to him, she looked at him like he wad speaking an alien language but damn were those eyes a sight. He could hardly focus, what-with the way they addressed him. He almost wanted to jam his fingers into her sockets and pry them out. It would be messy and unorthodox, but at least then, they would have had a conversation by now. Screaming is better than silence.

He could already feel his cock tighten swelteringly beneath the stress of his jeans.

Fuck, it has a mind of its own on this one..

"I-I can exp-, "The plea died cold on her lips the moment he shook his head.

"Shhhhhh" He bumped a finger to his lips in amusement. Her hysterical breathing calmed to a flutter though her chest still heaved with all it's might.

He looked her in the eyes, flashing a smile to try and ease her somewhat. The sooner she cooperated, the sooner he could decide what it was, he was going to have to do to her.

Those huge opalescent eyes shined with tears as they took him in, fear evident but hopeless surrender as well. Surprisingly it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, seeing her tears up close.

He honestly couldn't understand her lack of fending him off but he just figured she was smart enough not to attack him. Or she was just dumb enough to submit; which would explain why everyone in school dominated her.

Normally he couldn't stand a pushover but he could see the benefits of keeping one around. Her fear was palatable, he felt intoxicated by the taste. It made him realize just how long he had gone without a proper meal. He was going to bathe in those tears, figuratively, of course.

"You have about-mmh, fifteen seconds," He tapped his wrist, where his nonexistent watch was. "To tell me the truth, about everything and I do mean everything. Even if you don't think it's worth telling me, I encourage you to lay it all on me. Ok? Set, go,"

She looked at him, her throat bobbled with a hard swallow and he listened to the sound of her breath hitch. The noise was loud and grating, her shoulders raising and falling rapidly. He got a good whiff of her essence and it might have turned him on had he not been waiting for the impeding asthma attack all that breathing was bound to cause.

Here she goes, breathing like a fuckin lunatic. Like that's going to get her out of this.

"Ten, nine, eig-" He started counting down abruptly, anticipating her panic. Boy, was it rewarding. Her glassy eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and she began to babble wildly. Excitement was electric through his joints.

"I-I like you, I meant it, I meant everything I said to you! Sakura-chan doesn't deserve you and I wouldn't do the things she's done to you, I wouldn't take advantage of you!" She cried out, terror-ridden. Like a real-life bag of bolts. He was feeling some type of freaky fatal attraction vibes and while that would have scared most people away, he didn't feel particularly threatened by it.

He scanned her face. He wasn't expecting that bold of an answer, nor the answer itself. It gave him pause.

"What makes you think, you deserve me? I mean, look at you, you're like dry menma and I fuckin hate that stuff,"

He always thought of himself as a Trojan horse, no one deserved him but they got him whether they liked it or not. She flinched at his comment, and tremored like a wet kitten, eyes downcast.

"what, not what you were hoping to hear? You wanna be my girlfriend or somethin? You think that I'm this beacon of hope that will miraculously change your shitty social status? To be honest, I doubt I could even have that great an impact in college hierarchy. Sorry to rain on your parade."

He cared very little for the discomfort that showed plainly on her face. Her wide eyes looked fucking trippy to him. They were the type of eyes you paired with a ridiculous grim reaper costume-to come off as authentic on Halloween, but they were so much more disturbing than that. They held a complexity behind them, the things really got under his skin.

This freaky little bitch, with her eyes and her games.

He couldn't decide what to make of her.

"Tsk." He made a noise under his breath, he was close enough to puncture and drink her from the vein.

She already looked scared shitless. Could this really be all it took? She was a victim, of course this was all it took. Compared to her usual hazing this was probably an act of private kindness. Compassion even.

In reality, private threats were the cruelest kind. There was no one around to scold him or save her. He wasn't doing this for the entertainment of his peers, he wasn't seeking approval. He was doing it to save his own ass.

Who would believe a pariah like her anyway?

His earlier behavior had stemmed from his distaste of being toyed with, yet again, by someone far more unappealing than his token whore. His token whore, who for some reason, wanted to try and make an honest man out of him before she gave it up to him. The joke was on her because he had found a loophole. One as old as time.

"Was this a way to try and fuck with me?" he inquired, his voice a rumble of intimidation. He brushed the pad of his fingers over her tear stained cheek, tracing a stray down to her chin, "Or more specifically, did someone put you up to it? Who are they?"

He had reason to doubt she was a lone conspirator in all of this. That lingerie looked very expensive and the hoodie looked like she was birthed in the local thrift shop. Like sheets over an 800 count would disintegrate her.

Something is fucking fishy.

The hoodie shook her head fervently, her hair sifted over her shoulder and curtained her face. He casually placed a hand to her knee and patiently dug firm fingertips into the skin surrounding the defined bone.

"I really dislike repeating myself, and this conversation has been one sided even though I've been being patient with you."

This was all her fault and now he had to up the ante. He needed her to believe him, hopefully she did before he defied all odds and fractured her patellar.

She whimpered, her shoulders sunk and her tiny body started to shake and rock from side to side.

The sound of her pain aroused him in ways he hadn't felt in months. Music to his ears, nourishment to whatever soul his body had managed to retain. This was minimum effort and he was still getting great results. The acoustics in the bathroom were much to thank; it enhanced her tremulous voice, gave it volume. God, he could only imagine the results of fucking a screamer in here.

"N-No one! I acted alone, N-naruto-kun, i-it hurts." She moaned breathily, attempting desperately to free her knee from his death grip. He constricted his hold further and she shrunk into herself, a small cry slithering from her shaking lips.

"It should," Naruto said matter-of-factly. "C'mon, there's no need to act shy now, we're well acquainted, right? Pen pals."

He felt deprived of the glorious view, those sweet tears brewing. He reached out with the hand that wasn't trying to shatter her kneecap and slipped hair behind her ear. He gave a fleeting pat to her head.

His gaze dropped to the erotic mouth in front of him, his eyes fell lower but the fucking hoodie censored him and he wrestled with the impulse to tear the frumpy shit from her flesh.

"Just be honest and I'll consider letting you off the hook." He promised with a sly grin. He had already been taking it easy, he had never been this passive with anyone else. Hiding out was making him soft, his former self would be appalled at his behavior as of late.

Her damp and inky lashes were so long, casting shadows on her tear stained cheekbones. Were they even hers? It's not like he could differentiate it anymore. So many people were buying and pasting them on now he had to wonder.

"I-I," she stammered, closing her eyes, taking short hick-like breaths. "It was all me, I j-just wanted you, to notice me. I-I follow you on your social media, I saw some of the things you liked a-and I followed your location to your house. A-and I jus-"

"Wai-wai-wait. You follow me on what? My profiles are private, I'd remember if I accepted a request from a lying cunt like you. Cut the shit, or I'll cut you,"

Her eyes flickered about wildly, she bit her trembling bottom lip and stared down at the ground.

"I-I was under a different alias-and picture."

Well, this was just fucking rich! The greatest thing he could have gotten out of this was that his location was on. When he specifically thought, he disabled the faggot the moment he got the phone.

He knew better than to accept pretty faces without at least surfing their profiles for clarity but it looks like he slipped up again. In his defense, he was trying to hide in plain sight, it would give no one reason to suspect him if he had friends and followers, people to vouch for his completely calm and collective demeanor. Completely, calm.

Though it was a concern, in the back of his mind that some of the profiles could be fake. He usually made a habit of engaging briefly with anyone he accepted. She must've gotten pass him, maybe he was losing his touch when it came to these things.

It would appear he's gotten complacent.

His fist longed to plunge themselves into something unmovable. He was convinced there was more to this little story and he was prepared to unwind every aspect of it, if only to destroy the tracks he had unintentionally left. He was traceable and he needed to get to rectifying that.

"What else?" he asked dispassionately.

"Th-there is n-nothing, that's all! Please believe me!"

Her voice was louder, insistent, he groped her knee and her back slumped even lower. He felt her fingers over his in an instant, her nails clawing and digging into the back of his sinewy fingers.

He burst into a fit of laughter at such a feeble attempt to stop him. Like a kitten trying to ruffle a lion.

"Really, that's the best you can do?" He snapped. "What else?!"

She gnashed her teeth, saliva seething behind her puffy lips. Tears intermittently falling to her lap.

"Don't lie again," He admonished, before she could fix her mouth to.

His stomach flopped eagerly and he watched her features distort in agony once he slid his palms up her legginged thigh and groped her surprisingly shapely flesh. She tensed up but soon melted between his abusive clutch. Her leg began to throb under his palm and he found his eyes traveling up gaped thighs.

Tremors wildly touched his spine, his abdomen tensed and he restricted his fingers unrelentingly into her meat, hoping to leave a nasty little bruise. He didn't need a knife to brand her. Her flesh was like putty.

The girl grunted but kept her sharp nails pierced into his flesh. His nerves ticked restlessly. The metallic presence of his own blood stuck to his nose and his skin prickled hotly from the fresh wound.

"IswearI'mnotlying, please can we talk!" She supplicates. "I'll never do it again! I-I'm really sorry!"

Sorry you were caught?

He watched her lips, they were wet and puffy. A strange sensation crippled him when he thought about them being wrapped around the girth of his cock, spewing muffled words, tears streaming down her face. Gagging when he stretched that tiny throat out and punished it thoroughly. Slowly and painfully.

He took a deep breath, the smell of her dredged up the memory of him this morning, working on his cock thinking about the mystery woman capable of such akin thoughts. Her confident personality oozing through the letters, her sexy hot juices coating his shaft under those sexy frills. He could still feel that warmth, slipping between his panty-clad fingers. That carnal desire running rampant through him.

It drove him mad that these were the things he was thinking.

"If you meant what you said, what's there to be sorry for? Seems incriminating when you word it apologetically," He hummed. "And cut it out with the waterworks, if you wanted me to stop you could have easily called out for help."

She didn't answer, it looked like he'd be approaching this his way. He sighed.

"I'm going to ask you questions, and you're going to answer them honestly or I'm going to break your jaw. We clear?" he asked and she nodded hesitantly, "Have you ever been inside of my house?"

It was just a hunch, that stemmed a few nights ago. He noticed something off about his bed; the bed that he made every morning without fail, neatly. Yes, it had still been made but, the wrinkles were a new addition. He thought that he had just been imagining it, what with all the pent-up paranoia. Now, it didn't seem like such a stretch that someone was in his lair, snooping around.

He studied her face closely, she looked like she wouldn't answer, he gave her a reason to, clinching her knee once more.

"Y-y-yes.." She breathed frantically, teeth clattering.

He took in the confession with a knowing nod. So, he'd have to get new locks. He'd have to buy some chains for the garage too because it looked like he'd be having a roommate. Or slave. The details were a little murky at this point.

"How the fuck did you manage to pull that off?"

"P-picked the lock," she claimed regretfully, panting. "I-I'm s-s-sorry I shouldn't hav-"

He laughed derisively.

"Too little, too late. What the hell were you doing? It must've been pretty important to risk getting arrested." Or raped.

He almost shivered thinking about what he would have done, had she ventured into his den while he was present and in need of a diversion.

Tears fell down her cheek and she hesitated to answer. His knuckles cracked with his next attempt at her knee and she winced, closing her eyes with a wet sniff.

"N-nothing, I-I didn't take anything! I j-just wanted t-to see what it was like, to be c-close to you. I-I only went to the bedroom, that's all!"

"I dunno, seems an awful lot to only visit a bed." He retorted skeptically. He felt high, he knew this was really getting him off.

He didn't think he was slacking off that much but here it was, proof, personified. So, what could he do? There could be no loose ends and this would be the biggest leak to his end, if he allowed it to go unchecked. He was as good as dead if he allowed this fragile individual to walk. She knew too much.

Maybe he should have done as the whore had advised earlier. He laughed inwardly. At the time-he was so engrossed in his bunny, he took none of that stalking shit seriously. Even now, a part of him still wanted to know more about the creepy girl who had probably been playing with her pussy on top his futon when he wasn't home.

She threatened his whole operation and yet the only thing he wanted to do at this point was terrorize her mouth with his throbbing meat.

He wasn't shit, he knew.

Letting her walk free wasn't an option. After all he had broken character in front of her. She'd be terrified publicly. He'd attract scrutiny, even if no one believed her, there was always some asshole who'd stick their nose in deeper than the rest. That would really be a pain in the ass to him.

He could feel his blood running cold. His tongue flickered against his inner cheek thoughtfully.

Suddenly a thought came unbound. Couldn't he just lock her in the basement? It wouldn't be the first time he had company down there. Of course, they were on borrowed time, in rare cases he kept them around when he didn't feel like hunting for their replacement. But damn, that would be a mouth he'd have to feed. A pet he'd have to try to not forget or kill. A lot went into caretaking, it would be taxing. Was she even worth saving?

The basement was already prepped, for someone else. He couldn't just thrust another girl into the sanctuary of another. But he couldn't just let her walk.

"Do you live with your parents?" he inquired.

She shook her head glumly.

"They're dead,"

"Whoopi-doo, so are mine. So, who do you live with?" he intoned.

"An uncle…Toneri."

"Will the guy miss you?" he asked, though he hadn't been expecting to say it so bluntly. In fact, the thought spun itself into a sentence on a whim.

"He only cares about the inheritance checks he gets, m-my parents left to me. W-what are you going to do to me, Naruto-kun?" She whispered her voice filled with unhidden desire, though fear wasn't far behind.

His cock gave a little steady thrum and he stared at her.

Pathetic.

She wasn't even in his social circle. The only time he had even encountered her were those rare occasions when one of his, "friends" decided to take it upon themselves to contribute to the tyranny. Yet, here he was, a chunk of her thigh throbbing beneath his fingers while they sat in the pissy men's restroom.

This was the most reckless he has ever been but it also helped that the girl was possibly bat shit crazy.

This certainly wouldn't be the first time a girl crazily pursued him under these convincingly false pretenses.

She'll learn like the rest.

He braced her thigh, gently. He couldn't get over how meaty she was, with juicy ass thighs like this, he knew her body would blow Sakura's out of the water. And besides Sakura was built like a teenage twink.

"Take it off, the hoodie." He directed. He wanted to see.

She turned her head and looked like she'd refuse. He stared at her pointedly, making it clear that it wasn't up for debate. He released her leg and waited for her to comply.

"Part one, of your punishment."

"Naruto-k-"She began to object in that bellish voice, her face conflicted.

"You said you'd do anything, are you a lying cunt or not?" He goaded. She shook her head. "So, what's the hold up? Take it off, it's ugly."

He brought the back of his bloody hand to his lips and sucked up the tart blood. He could see her throat jumping with several swallows.

Her tearful eyes kept searching his in disbelief, like she couldn't believe he was the type of guy to ask this of her. Who the hell did she think she was writing?

He was impressed, how well she followed directions. Then again, she had this inane idea that she was madly in love with him.

Her first mistake.

She clasped the zipper at her collar sheepishly. She looked in his eyes as if hoping that he would intervene on her behalf.

He swept his fingers impatiently in her direction. "I haven't got all day ya know. You should be thankful that this is all I'm making you do and I haven't gone to the cops. Lucky for you I'm not a filthy snitch."

Looking defeated, she slowly brought her zipper down with quivering fingers. The material parted open and that damn lilac fragrance whirled out to suffocate him, with a vengeance. His eyes even watered.

Holy fucking-fun bags.

His fingers tensed at his side with an itch to interact; to fondle and squeeze.

Her milky supple breast nearly spilled over the padded bra they were tucked into. That damn bra. It reminded him of the beige panties he had jacked his load into earlier. It embellished her rack ten-folds, glittering studs aligned the under cuffs and straps. Her shoulders were high and she looked close to fainting.

Mmh.

"Well, well, well. So that's what you've been smuggling all this time under that dirty hood. Selfish," Naruto shook his head, as if berating the girls selfishness.

It took him a moment to realize that she hadn't been wearing a shirt, only a beige bra. It was such a naughty thing to do, for a girl like her anyway.

Everyone assumed she was undoable because she dressed ugly and walked around like the next school shooter.

Those idiots would rather bully her for being an obvious creep than to get a peek of what was under all of that, eye-sore-of-a hoodie.

Once he had purged himself from his initial shock (he managed to mask) and perverse thoughts he spotted a gash that extended from one side of her rib cage to the other. To the untrained eye, it might've seemed like a surgical wound but he knew better. The incision wasn't executed with precision, in fact, the gash was much too deep and dodgy. He'd imagine it would be hard to cut into yourself at that angle.

He had inflicted enough to know the stages just by looking. The self-inflicted wound bronzed over nicely with raised flakes of darkened skin. It was healing but it was so faint one abrupt motion would probably tear it open. He would keep that in mind.

He could practically smell her blood, dampening the air, like a pool of pennies overflowing. His cock was thrumming maddeningly against his zipper.

"keep going," he urged, tugging down the invisible zipper of his t-shirt patiently, blinding her with a good-natured grin to keep her invested.

There was a flicker of pain in her eyes after those words but she was only exposing her bra cladded breast-and that wouldn't be enough to assure him that his stalker was punished for breaking and entry. Not even close.

Guiltlessly, he watched her visibly shake.

Understanding she was fighting a losing battle, the crazy girl slid the grumbling zipper down, under her bra and past her stomach. The hoodie slipped down her bare shoulders, and draped around her full hips. It reminded him of someone shedding an ugly disguise, only to reveal something more tragic.

He took in her canvas, marred with ribbons of blood and other faint bruises.

What a waste.

Her flat stomach moved nimbly, every pulse under her flesh tangible. Her skin was easy to read and yet she managed to miss every artery. Purposely, no doubt.

"It's not that hard you know. I'll give you a few tips, hold still. This beautiful juicy point right here, usually does the trick. Like a squirting bitch if you hit the right spot," he explained lowly reaching out blindly to caress her jugular vein, her silky hair feathered against his knuckles as he demonstrated. She stared at him, her eyes moist, fluttering in bewilderment. "if you really wanted the job done, you'd start there, or here.."

He knocked his knuckles lightly against her temple.

"You can't go wrong with either method, it's all in the technique. You know, if you're a real go getter. Otherwise you're just whoring for attention and that's pretty fuckin worthless."

He hated people who damaged themselves, there were people like him perfectly capable of assisting such masochistic urges. Of course, it might cost them their lives but isn't that what they were trying to accomplish anyway? They just didn't have the balls to go through with it, nor the commitment; the personal drive to stay the course.

Just a bunch of attention seeking whores that wanted the world to revolve around them because they got scissor happy with their bodies.

"I don't know what else to do." She admitted, sniffling.

How strange it felt for him to see so many scars he hadn't been the illustrator of, it was all the wrong reverse, twisted and a short flash of memory went straight through his brain like a short-circuit.

Wounds are a language. Someone told him that once, someone in his past with a similar bad habit. Only, her cuts were deeper, angrier and critical. So critical, not even the touch of his tongue tracing her wounds could revive her. That face he had known all his life. She had done it, she had left him, willingly. Selfishly. She was the only person who had truly gotten away from him. He was just a boy then and time had done nothing to diminish the loss.

"What do I do?" a soft voice seeped into his brain. Hoodie girl was somehow closer to him, on her hands and knees like a battered slut awaiting an award winning cum shot. She looked up at him like a lost puppy, glossy flyaway hairs around the crown of her head.

He didn't understand her question but he was sick and tired of fighting himself. He could allow himself, just this once, a brief treat. He fuckin deserved it. Didn't he?

Naruto leaned down and placed his mouth on hers with raw hunger, it surprised him. Her breath crashed unevenly into his nostrils, the small noise of shock she made muffled by the growing ferocity of the kiss. Her lips wet and plush, he sought to provoke her by dominating them with sheer experience and thoroughness.

He pushed his persuasive tongue into her surprisingly sweet tasting mouth, pleased with how she mimicked him clumsily. She censored her tongue from his reach and kissed like a newborn turtle. He pulled himself out of the kiss abruptly.

What the fuck?

"So you're a stalker and you're useless?" he asked rhetorically. "I might have to teach you a thing or two." She looked away, embarrassment pinching at her flushed cheeks.

"C'mere ugly girl," He gestured her over with an urgent flick of his fingers, he scooched backward, to the wall.

Meekly she began to crawl after him, pills rattling in her hoodie pockets. Once his back bumped the wall behind him, he began patting the area outside his thigh so she could straddle his lap. She obeyed, his insult didn't seem to have any effect on her.

She was probably desensitized by now.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked. He hoped not, though it seemed likely, the girl couldn't kiss.

"N-no."

"Mmh, really?"

He was genuinely astonished, he didn't have to pretend.

The hoodie stared down self-consciously once she was straddling him. Awkwardly on her knees, hovering above him, her hair tickling his jaw and enclosing them into a deeper privacy. He could smell the ethereal aroma of her hair. It got to him.

He undid his belt with one hand, his cock beating so hard his inner thigh shook. He was hard enough to hammer nails. It's been awhile since he's felt this excited. Something animalistic gnawed away inside of him. He could hardly keep it at bay. Her body heat and proximity made it hard for him to think rationally.

"How many guys have dicked you?" he asked, grabbing a handful of his erected meat through his boxers, he adjusted himself.

"O-one," the girl stated meekly, her eyes fell to his fingers toying with himself and flickered shyly to meet his face. She quickly looked away.

"So you lied, in the letter today about having been with no man," he lashed at her.

She flinched slightly, arms raised to shield her face, bracing herself for an assault. The blonde laughed wolfishly, entertained.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I'm not going to swat you, you fuckin weirdo. Anyway, come off it with the lies."

"H-h-he wasn't a man, he was a monster," She insisted softly.

"Last I checked, monster or not, if some guy skewered you with his dick, it counts."

He waited for her to either debate or elaborate but the girl just didn't like putting up a fight.

"Well, don't keep us all in suspense. Boyfriend? Uncle?" he asked dubiously. "Things got a little too rough and you couldn't take a mean dicking?"

"I-I didn't k-know him," She stated firmly through her teeth, tears welling in her eyes, she looked detached. "h-he just-took it…away from me.."

Things were getting too personal and he was no one's counselor.

"Fuck. Whatever, fine, he's a monster. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Fists knotted at her sides. Her eyes were sullen, huge and teary. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and dropped the subject.

It obviously seemed serious and he didn't feel like getting touchy feely with the girl, he never enjoyed those types of sessions and he couldn't fake sympathy with a complete stranger.

"Even though you're useless, I'll give you another shot to impress me."

She turned her head away, the blonde positioned her back to face him.

His eyes fell to those plump dry lips and he pulled her in by her chin, directly over his boxer clad cock.

"Don't do anything this time, just leave it to me."

The look of absolute bliss in those pristine eyes sent an unfamiliar jolt straight into the center of his hardened chest.

He met her with (what he hoped) an instructive stroke of his lips. The swell of her lips provoked him and by the second stroke he was penetrating her mouth with a thorough sweep of his slick tongue. Her lips moved and timidly her tongue stroked his testily. She was so god damn scared but he could tell, he could practically feel her idiotic desire.

His eyes remained open, to gauge her reaction to him. He wondered what he could get away with.

His fingers slipped up the smooth nape of her neck, until his fingertips were trapped in her soft hair. He fisted a bit of it and dragged her closer. He swallowed a strange fluttery moan from her lips and reveled in the sloppiness of the kiss. Their lips began to slip and slurp, soon enough he felt saliva trickle hot down his chin.

He pulled back in bewilderment.

The saliva had already dampened his boxers and wet the swollen head of his cock, he could feel the material clanging to his cock. He felt a dark tremor give way at his spine and tried to fight the knee-jerk reaction rip her apart. His fingers shook with impatience. His cock twitched at the unsuspecting sensation of warmth that began to spread throughout his groin.

He pulled her tightly by the hair and latched onto her, immediately thrusting his tongue down her throat. She gasped and melted.

It's just a little saliva.

There was no way this much saliva should be going unchecked on her part. It had to be intentional and that didn't surprise him. After all, he had already known her to have an imagination.

His fingertips dug into her tender, breakable neck, a neck that small would be like snapping a toothpick. He could feel the faint pulsations of her body under his fingers. He had to be careful, even though everything in his mind longed to splurge on this poor misguided soul. She was literally gambling her life away on the grounds of an unexplained sentiment that would never be reciprocated.

He's never loved anyone. He lived for the small victories of truly feeling alive, challenging the notion of "sanity" and true happiness. Love was just a pretty word that people wasted on each other to make themselves feel special. Love was the real overrated. A made-up feeling someone invented purely to watch others try and have it. It was a mental illness and people did stupid shit in the name of it.

Their tongues twisted and slipped around each other's for what seemed like the longest moment of his life. When she extracted herself, saliva streamed from her lower lips like spider's silk and trekked down on top of his tented boxers. He could vaguely make out the outline of his cock, through the dampened marks of saliva.

She wasn't a decent kisser, she was quite sloppy but he couldn't be bothered trying to teach her. Sloppy kisses seemed to be doing a hell of a lot for him in this moment.

"Spit more, you can never spit too much," he encouraged and she leaned forward to do just that, like her life depended on his dick getting wet. Her thin fingers felt like a nervous childs against his knotted shaft. They moved with a crazed urgency that suited his exact impatience. She began to knead him through his boxers vigorously and he watched threads of saliva streaming from her lips. "I don't just stick my dick into any dirty cunt that asks for it but I've got no problem giving you a sample, you want that don't you?"

She nodded shyly, shrinking away from the sizzling blue of his eyes. He could feel her hot spit over the entirety of his length, his boxers soaked in moist thickness. Her fingers continued to pressure him, like they were touching the bare swell of him. The air felt thin and he could make out the bruised red of her nipples, her tits nearly popping out of her bra. He bit on his tongue trying to stifle his overwhelming impulses to get his tongue around one.

He reached out to yank her sleeves from her wrist, he tossed that dreadful hoodie away. On her knees, just above him, he could see the slight partition of her juicy folds. He reached out to trace her heated sex through her leggings. His fingertips tracing down the sensitive dampened folds and back up again, rubbing her damped clit with each stroke.

"Fuck, I haven't even done anything yet and you're dripping. Ready for my dick to ravage that drooling pussy. That's just too bad," He stated in a ragged breath, feeling her slick thicken on his fingers with each passing moment. He regretted not being able to fuck her but he had standards and he certainly wouldn't ditch them, at least not right now.

The girl whimpered and convulsed uncontrollably, her fingers latching to his lean, muscled shirted shoulders weakly, trying to keep steady. It must've been sensory overload. She moved sluggishly, like all the energy was extracted from her body. His cock jolted and he continued to stroke himself with his free hand at the thought of how tight she would feel wrapped around his cock. Every thought filled him with doubt in his ability to abstain.

He clinched his jaw, his fingers were silken in her wetness, her pussy was beckoning him. Her scent enclosed him with such intensity he felt he had been struck. It entered his senses and threatened to overrun his sanity. He had to suppress the urge to smash her against the cold ground and fuck the sense back into her. He had to remind himself that it wasn't a challenge, he needed more than sex.

The crazy bitch had the nerve to start moving against his fingers, with unbridled passion. Her hips, her body, undulating desperately and seductively. He felt immobilized by hunger, he watched her scarred body vigorously thrusting against his fingers. The wet slushy sound of it really had his muscles in a bind. Her moans climbed louder, breather. Her fingers fled to hide her face, to muffle her pleasure.

He bit his inner cheek.

"Part two of your punishment," He snapped, hoping to gain control of himself. This couldn't be what broke him, he wouldn't let it.

His fingers took her hips and he urged her down on top his drenched boxers. She fell on just the right spot, he could feel her folds bordering the veiny girth of his cock and the tiny prominent pebble of her clit pressured against him. It took him several breaths to get into the right mindset.

The bulbous head of his cock heavy and uncomfortable over the bruised skin of his lower stomach.

He felt like laughing at the interesting turn of events. He and his real victim hadn't even been this close. His muscles went rigid when he looked at her unsuspecting face, her mouth gaping with wild breath. The small hairs over her face fluttered with every breath she took.

"You almost made me forget, that you shouldn't be enjoying any of this."

He groped her hips so hard, he felt his knuckles snap. He slid his fingers to her under-thighs and hoisted her up to grant him access to her abundance of cheek. Confusion and anticipation heavy in her gaze, this was the first time he believed the fear on her face.

"Naruto-"

From her thighs, he ran his pressured fingers to seize the fullness of her. He groped her firmly with a grunt of approval.

"You're a glutton for punishment and," He interrupted. She didn't have time to brace herself before he struck her backside. The slap was paralyzing and it stung his palm, adrenaline flared through his bloodstream. The girl crashed against his shoulder with a hoarse cry, she was boneless in his arms. The echo still rung in his ears and he hungered for more.

He smirked to himself, power coursing by the gallons through his veins.

He locked one arm around her waist. He looked over her shoulder, her back was forcibly arched, her legginged material ass at his full disposal. He rubbed her cheek in patient meditation. The sheer-like material of it heated from the previous strike, he could feel her swollen mound underneath. He breathed through his nostrils.

Something must have registered in her glitchy brain. She must have realized the next hits were going to be ten times worse. She began squirming to get the hell away from him but it was too late, she was caged.

"I'm going to give you a really good reason to cry."


	5. Inbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This by far doesn't count as a chapter but these messages go along with the next chapter that will be uploaded (I pinky swear) soon. I'm in the middle of moving so it's hard keeping up with five stories but I'm up for the challenge. I upload when I can and I appreciate everyone that writes me and asks daily about my stories. I love love love the enthusiasm, you're all fuckin great! Anyway this was just kind of an "extras" feature. It may or may not hold information. You don't have to read this to understand Chapter 6 though. Written by Nixx-poo. ^_^

Sakura[6:30 p.m] Where the hell r u? I hitched a ride with u remember? U had one job.

Me[6:35 p.m] Oh shit. I'm sorry sweetheart, I've got my hands full right now..

Sakura[6:36 p.m] Pick up ur phone and maybe I can be reasonable about u practically ditching and embarrassing me with ur absence. U know we always eat with Ino and Sai. Ino even made katsudon for us. When they asked about u, I couldn't even speak on your behalf. So I was the third wheel, with u unaccounted for. U could've at least had the common decency to send a text that u couldn't make it…for whatever reason.

Me[6:37 p.m] You're right, I'll apologize properly later.

Sakura[6:37 p.m] R u kidding me? Will you be en route soon even? Campus is crawling with stoned zombies and potential frat rapist at this hour so hurry up, it's nippy out.

Sakura[7:00 p.m] Hello?! Seriously where tf r u!? First, u didn't show up for lunch and

now ur screening my text? The thingy says u read the last message 6:38.

Me[8:25 p.m] My bad, my phone must've been open to our chat. Gimmie a min, I'll be on

break soon.

I'm in the middle of a hectic shift, covering for fuckin Sasuke-I'm-under-house-arrest-

Uchiha, again.

Look, just get a ride with the atomic blonde, she's a dorm-rat.

I fucked up and I'll make it up to you. Whatever you want.

Sakura[8:27 p.m] Fuck u, u fucking asshole.

Me[8:30 p.m] Is this a genuine offer or..

Sakura[8:32 p.m] Someone said they saw u leave campus with a girl. I stg if ur messing around on me-

Me[8:55 p.m] Why didn't you just lead with that? That why you're biting my head off? Man, this jealous you is kind of doing it for me. I was beginning to think you were only using me for my enormous dick but I guess you're just sprung in general. I'm on break now, so let me have it. :}

Sakura[8:56 p.m] Fuck u!

Me[9:00 p.m] Dually noted…fucking aside, I'm not trying to hide anything from you. I did give someone a lift. The weird girl with the hoodie, sits beside you in Anatomy.

Sakura[9:03 p.m] Which weird girl? Leafli is full of basic hoes that fit the bill. Seriously, how hard is it to stick to a decent skin care regimen and give a hoot about ur outward appearance? I haven't worn a hoodie since like the second third grade. Girls who roll out of bed and shove their necks through a hoodie have no self-respect, it's like they personally hate themselves. How could you dress that tragically on purpose, u know?

Me[9:09 p.m] uh no. Sweetheart focus. You know the one. With the weird telepathic eyes, you're always giving her a hard time.

Sakura[9:11 p.m] Hinatard? Ew, ur going to have to throw out the whole car. Lol. She's so filthy, bitch doesn't even wear panties to school. Like, she just lets the soggy cat out of the net daily. I don't even want to think about her mucking up ur seats with that sewer cunt of hers. I'm never sitting in that seat again. I'd rather walk four miles, in nylon stockings and 9 inch heels.

Me[9:13 p.m] You're overexaggerating, the seat is fine. Why do you dislike her so much? Did she fuck 

your old man too? Call you nutmeg?

Sakura[9:15 p.m] Harty-har -_-. I don't care one way or the other about her. She's just a tough, disgusting pill to swallow, or to look at. She makes everyone uncomfortable and all she does is stare at people. It's like ok, do u lack basic people skills? It's rude to stare bitch. I stg it's like she does it on purpose, to tick people off. She doesn't even speak when she's spoken to. Like wtf is her deal, is she nine? Even my dog has enough sense to try and communicate with us.

Me[9:17 p.m]. Maybe she acts that way on purpose, yanno, because you guys bully her.

Sakura[9:18 p.m] U guys?! Excuse me? Me, a bully? No, if anything, I'm doing her a favor, honesty is the best policy. She needs like professional help or to down a bottle of Prozac. Why r u trying to be a hero? R u into her? Did u two have like, a heart to heart?

Me[9:19 p.m] Excuse me? Me, a hero? Far from it gorgeous. I hardly know

her and even if I did, she couldn't hold a flame to you. Not even if she were being burned alive ;).

You know you've got me wrapped around that persuasive tongue of yours...I just don't get why

everyone likes to fuck with her. Is she some sort of undercover asshole? The fuck am I missin here?

Sakura[9:20 p.m] There's nothing to it really. Freshmen year a friend of mine almost caught a serious case behind her. She made up some ridiculous lie about being raped at this party lol. The school and the news were all over it, cops swarming campus. Omg it was so outrageous, a real shit-show where everyone got grilled until morning. It blew up in her ugly face anyway, her creepy uncle refused to let her get the rape kit done and then they both skipped town for a whole week. She returned to school like nothing ever happened. Luckily my friend was exonerated. Pf she should be so lucky if anyone was willing to stuff her turkey hole. She's a psycho and a pathological liar baby, u can pity her from afar but don't be stupid. Stay away from that bitch before she lies on u too.

Me[9:28 p.m] Noted. It was just a quick little ride. I gtg, break is up. Did you get ahold of Yamanaka?

Sakura[9:30 p.m] Yeah, says she's around the corner. Btw I'm not saying I forgive u but those pearlescent pumps with the crimson soles in Konan's, at the mall, would be a step in the right direction. U can bring them to my place, we need to have a chat anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it extremely hilarious that Sakura is so disgusted by Hinata. She actually sampled her "cat" a few chapters back, courtesy of Naruto being petty. If only she knew. Baby girl the seat is the lesser of two evils.


	6. Internal and External Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata is bullied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thanks Nixx for continuing to press on without me (I cannot write from Hinata's P.o.v which is scary that I'm more comfortable writing from Naruto's during this story) 8D I have way too many stories going on and I've been getting a little lazy with this one. I'm sorry to those that're still reading and wondering. I'll be back at it with the Naruto P.o.v's and I hope you're all having a happy holiday!

 

_**Hinata Pov** _

* * *

_It hurts._

_It hurts._

_It hurts_.

She doesn't fight them.

They always win.

They're always stronger—entitled, rich, better than her, prettier than her…they have everything going for them and she does not. She's someone's to use, someone's to hurt, someone's to hate but never  _someone._

_It hurts…_

Tears are brimming, a terrifyingly large lump is lodged in her throat and no matter how many times she swallows it won't budge—not even a little. Her whole-body hums with her electrifying agony and the fact that she's trying to stifle a cry. A genuine cry, that wants to rip its way from her throat and crumble the entire building, sending everything and everyone toppling over.

"Are you a damn idiot? I'm giving you every opportunity to come clean and yet, you take my generosity for granted. Some twisted part of you wants me to cave your face in.  _Well_ your wish,"

The immense pressure of a boot on her face hasn't let up—in fact it's become more urgent, severe, and flat-out merciless. The uncaring soles are steep and sharp; like a dozen box cutters slicing into the tender, tearstained, skin of her face.

"My command. Now, let's try this one more time. What the hell were you doing in his car?"

The pressure has a dizzying effect on her brain, colors invert themselves and the tears start to roll. They trek from the crook of her eye, slant across the bridge of her nose and puddle around her face—that's mashed against the floor. Her face is trapped between the frigid marble floor of the girl's restroom and Karin Ukatsi's, Higgins Mill boots.

The boots are digging into her cheekbone like meat hooks. Her jaw is locked and if Karin pressed any harder, she's certain her jaw will come unhinged and so would the rest of her.

Her heart throbs through her ears, heaps of breath flaring from her nostrils and wafting the hairs over her face across the floor where a pair of white Adidas, vacates the floor momentarily before stomping down forcefully.

The slam is profound, her ears ring gratingly and the sound is explosive to her eardrums. Like a gun shot, going off above her head.

Her eyes sting. The hair follicles that had been excruciatingly ripped from her scalp are flattened under those pristine Adidas—tangled up and white tipped. The Adidas drag the wisps of torn hair across the ground, like someone would if they were trying to rid a squashed bug, before entering their home.

A trickle of pain comes in the form of a shuddering gasp as she watches her hair be toed and swept around by other mint-conditioned shoes. Giggles bounce off the wall, along with squeals and indistinct chatter among the few girls.

She doesn't know how many there are—only that they found her hiding in a stall and dragged her out by her hair.

"Ew get that ugly shit away from me, Tenten."

"I've seen better toupees!"

"I've seen pubes more lustrous than those tresses."

"Oh my god sis, like, do you even condition?"

Someone cackles, "Probably can't even afford to. I bet her hair smells like mold, probably infested with lice too."

"Dirty bitch." Someone sneers, with contempt—like she had done something so deserving of the title and their acid tone. Hinata doubted she knew any of the girls whom assaulted her. She doesn't personally know any girls at the university but they all seem to know and hate her. If she so much as tries to gain an ally—someone would find out and plant a seed in their ear and the next thing she knows her,  _'would be friend'_  is keeping their distance from her like she's the black plague.

_It hurts._

She sniffles, and despite her efforts to remain calm and quiet, a quivering whimper spills from her lips and her hot eyelids fall shut. Her gullet tightens and she can hardly get a full breath in. Her entire body jolts, with every shallow breath.

"Aww, guys she's mourning that horrid tapestry of hair. You're such a fucking bitch Tenten!" Someone comments with faux sympathy, "Have you no shame bitch? Growth is tedious enough, you are a fucking barbarian."

"Tch, the way I see it, I've done her a service. Maybe good hair will grow in its place, there's hope for you yet sewer pussy."

Screechy laughter stirs once more, minor shuffling too and Hinata can hear the distinct sound of a cell's shutter going off. Circular blue and red lights dance behind her eyelids, scrambling wildly before settling into opaque darkness. A wind of retreat dries her face and she's trying to recall what little she learned during the two weeks of therapy, prior to her unk— _Toneri,_ yanking her out of the program, without explanation.

It was against the Doctors orders and Hinata vaguely remembers standing outside of a glass door, hearing Toneri fuss with Dr. Chiyo. Anyone would think that Toneri was an uncle in denial that his niece needed rehabilitation. Some people feel sorry for him and often suggest that he should probably turn Hinata over to a facility that could properly restore her to some form of normalcy. However, Hinata knows better, her rehabilitation was cutting into funds and though Toneri kept up the role of, _'noble uncle trying to heal his traumatized niece.'_  No one came between he and his funds.

He'd foot the pharmacy bill, if only to keep a cap on her episodes but her inheritance was otherwise squandered on booze and sometimes trashy hookers, when Hinata locks him out of her room.

The sudden crushing pressure of the boot, obtains her attention. It feels like it may just go straight through her skin and bones and meet the ground—on the other side of her cheek. Her face feels raw, like it's being grounded by steel.

"I can stomp your ugly mug in all day, Hinatard," Karin sighs exhaustively, rubbing the grubby soles of her boots in a circular motion on a raw cheek, "you're on borrowed time, I literally have a pedicure planned and if I have to reschedule cause of this stunt you're attempting to pull, I'll see to it that your face matches your trashy little cunt. So, why were you with him?"

Someone pops their lips, "She isn't going to fess up, not when she's acting like a fucking mute. We've been interrogating her for an hour now and she hasn't said a word. The closest thing to a reaction we've gotten out of her, is Ten ripping her roots out. So, I say, we stick to that method."

Her heart clinches in her chest, she hears the idea gain traction and the cold draft from movement makes her tears freeze cold and dangle from her septum.

_Just tell them, what they want to know. This'll all be over._

_But it wouldn't, it never is._

Even if she told them, it was innocent, they'd never believe her. She could cry blood and her words would cease to please anyone.

It wasn't the truth they wanted to hear. They were delivering a message to her, or, putting her in her place. She was like a weed, and they would surely cut her down and keep her down.

The problem was, though the pain hurts, it isn't unbearable.

Though this pain may feel eternal, it always ends.

She doesn't fight them, there's no point, they've already won. Though if they've chosen to waste so much time and energy on her, who has really won?

If they're so concerned about why she was in Naruto's car, does that somehow threaten them? Do they believe that she stands a chance with Naruto-kun? Could someone be jealous of her? They're certainly here to do Sakura's bidding. So, someone must've seen them. Someone must've hyped up the situation so unbelievably and the queen herself must've been feeling a twinge of insecurity that Hinata, had been in such proximity of Naruto.

Hinata's heart was beating in his ears, tremendously at this point, but it was also slowing down to a halt, slower with each second that passed. Hands are pulling roughly at the shoulders of her hoodie. There's a gap between her bangs and errant strands of hairs intercepting her view. Her vision swivels from the abruptness of being upright and forced to her knees.

Her pills rattle in her hoodie pockets and for a split second she worries that they'll find them and flush them. She hated how nauseous the things made her, sometimes she'd even feel feverish and pass out. It's one of the reasons why she hasn't taken them this week, she still can't spot the difference between taking them and not taking them.

Two girls stand guard in front of the bathroom exit. Tenten is stooping in front of Hinata and blowing torn hair in her face, like she's sending off a kiss. Hinata blinks profusely, involuntarily twisting her face away—a strange feeling mounting her heavily and forcing her fist to clinch. Her nails dig into her palms and her eyes feel like they'd pop from their sockets.

"Souvenir?"

"Oh, she doesn't like that."

"Now she knows how we feel, looking at her tragic appearance."

_Slap!_

It's like a hot spark of fire being dragged across her face, the force is at neck breaking speed and enough to turn her face in the opposite direction. Tears shoot from her eyes. Saliva bubbles and seethe from her gritted teeth.

"You've got one more chance, because I'm a big softie when it comes down to it."

There are some murmurs that refute that statement, but the naysayers suddenly go mum.

Hinata's head spins and her temples pulsate.

"What was a dirty little thing like you, doing with Naruto Uzumaki?"

She could tell them. She could tell them that it was only a ride—she could make up stories, she could play the victim like everyone expects her to. It's always been her best card—her only card to get out of a situation. It would be over the moment she explained to them that she begged for a ride, that she absolutely had to get home to her poor old uncle.

Anyone would buy that. Anyone but them.

This beating wasn't to gain information, because she was certain that Naruto had covered his tracks. She could say whatever she wanted and they were still going to make her hurt, so, if they were going to beat her. She may as well embellish a little.

"I—I," her voice was hoarse and strained.

"It speaks."

Her heart thrashed in her chest and her brain has already developed a sufficient report. She knows what she'll say and she knows that it won't be received well. She knows that Sakura will hear of this but most importantly, she knows Naruto will hear of it.

That's the deciding factor. That's what makes her head raise, in a room full of viper's ready to strike her. That's what makes her ignore the dullened pain surrounding her skull, after thirty minutes of being grated into the soiled floors of the girl's restroom.

"I—I, I  _suckedhim_." She utters under her breath.

"What?!" Tenten asks, leaning forward. The restroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The air seemed thick, impenetrable. All the girls waiting on baited breath to hear.

Tenten's cherry red lips were pressed into hard lines that made unpleasant plains on her face. Hinata's eyes dropped to her lips and then back up to her eyes.

"Speak up."

Hinata nods, using the heel of her palm to dry her tears. She nervously shifts closer to Tenten who stiffened but otherwise stayed stock still and furrowed a brow. Hinata could smell the fruity fragrance rolling off the smaller girl, her minty breath fresh with a stick of  _wintergreen_  gum and a hint of cigarette smoke.

"I—I  _suckedhimoff,_  he—he came in my—my mouth."

Tenten stared at her incredulously and Hinata blinked slowly—like a cat, shamelessly.

"Your lying reputation precedes you."

"What?" Hinata asks her, with wide and wild eyes, she looks around the room and all the girls are staring at her like she's a legless creature abandoned in an alley.

"No—n-no he—we did, we had fun."

Karin laughs from somewhere behind her, "No way would he let you put your crusty lips on his junk. He has Sakura for that. Try again, dumbass."

"I—I can prove it…"

There are a few gasps and a few accusations that she's a liar. There's a rapping on the door and one of the girl's shout _, 'Ocupado!'_

Everyone freezes for a delayed moment and the knocking discontinues.

"Prove it." Tenten dares, with a blank stare, her bare arms crossing over her chest.

Maybe they've already won and maybe she could never hope to win. And maybe, it hurts and god—does it hurt. The pain, the physical pain—she could stomach, she could shelter, she could use.

The worse pain, doesn't require a scar, a bruise or a broken bone to map where it originated.

The worse pain could feel like a festering wound, and never take a physical form.

It's in her head, it's wrung dry in her chest, it's a shadow that holds her hostage in the middle of the night and keeps her awake for as long as it needs her to be.

The worse pain is loneliness.

And without a single thought, she tips forward and latches her mouth to Tentens in a gratuitous kiss.

_And it hurts._


	7. Punishment Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto gives Hinata a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter resumes from Punishment 1. I hope you enjoy, this chapter was cranked out pretty quickly-there will more than likely be some editing tomorrow. Thanks for commenting and reading! I really appreciate it. Nixx and I both!

 

* * *

Is he an over-indulger? Definitely. To a fault, in fact. When he got a taste for something, he wanted it, with every fiber of his being. Day in and day out, the thing that he desperately tried to push to the back of his mind, consumes him.

There isn't a lot of things in this world that could occupy his mind quite like sex or the idea of it anyway. It was never the raw act of sex itself, no. It was the unguarded truth of it all. The bare vulnerabilities that one could easily perceive through the eyes of their partner, their victim.

It was never enough for him, to settle down and pretend that someone else made him better. He always thought making someone  _'better'_ , implied that someone needed to change. Change. A word he's been acquainted with since he became of age to adapt to the ever-changing climate in his childhood. Change. Something he's physically capable of doing but mentally—he is a creature of habit.

No matter how much things change, they're somewhat the same. Change is bullshit, and he's never been under an illusion that he'd ever truly change. Not completely.

Everything that he's doing, he's done before. It's all become instinctive, like some big subconscious knee-jerk. This life, it's been drilled into him—even before he knew.

He only realizes he's in the middle of something when a flick of motion catches his eye.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? You can't possibly think that I'm done with you," he's cramming his spit-slicked and engorged cock into his jeans. Refusing to zip up, he didn't even think he could accomplish such a feat at this point. His palms were on fire, sizzling and stinging, "because I'm not. Not by a long shot."

"Please, I—I get it, I've learned the l-lesson," she pleas, the sound of it raw and impotent. She was learning compliance, learning that this wasn't a game.

She sniffles, shoulders nearly above her ears, "Y—you can trust me, who would I tell? No takes my word—n-no one will listen to me. I have no friends to run  _to_."

He eyes her dispassionately, rubbing a knuckle over his jaw with a thoughtful,  _'ha'_. As though these points have never crossed his mind.

"I believe you ugly, I really do. It's just—you're kind of the  _thing_ I need, in this particular moment and I don't think I see an end to  _this_ anytime soon," he says gesturing between the two of them, to emphasize. The hoodie appears to be nonplussed by the statement, her supple puffy lips part and then close in an attempt to speak but she never does.

What can he say except;  _when it rains, it pours._  His body has been experiencing the pain of a drought for far too long and though he made a desultory effort to stabilize himself, he sees now that he has always been wholly incapable of staving off his appetite. All this time, he's only been prolonging his torment and stifling the impulse to do exactly what came natural.

He could pinpoint the exact moment that he had no desire to stop himself. His resolve vanished somewhere between the twentieth strike to her bruised backside, when screams were being ripped from her throat and the thrill of someone stumbling across them had his heart pounding down the steel of his ribcage.

The stinging of his fingers get progressively worse, now that he isn't meting out the punishment, though the deliciously sharp tingle is a much welcomed symptom. That, and the added thought that her ass must feel a hell of a lot more beaten up.

"Ihavetog-gonow." She sputters, falling back into her paranoia for seemingly no reason.  _Go figure._

"Seriously?"

She turned to crawl and he lashed out to grab her bony ankle, just to test the waters, you know, to indulge in this cursory moment. To be himself. She whimpered woundedly, trying to kick away from his unchallenging grasp, which only successfully aided him in confiscating her sneaker.

"Trying to bail on me this soon, huh? That's fuckin' wild, I personally thought we were hitting it off,  _Hinata_. I even went through all the trouble of remembering your name."

Naruto relented with an amused chuckle, observing the tiny tennis shoe. Well, it wasn't a glass slipper that he could smash and threaten to slit her throat with but he could jury rig it to be just as lethal.

He's always had an eye, to fashion weapons from ordinary material. An innate ability of his that people often marveled about, until, he's using a bobby pin to skin the tip of their noses like a potato. Then suddenly his talents are grotesque, sadistic…and he's a sick individual.

The blonde chuckles wryly, untying the shoelace from the abandoned black and white striped sneaker, unhurried. Fraught with fear, the hoodie girl scrambles to scoop up her things, believing that she's victorious in her plight to escape (though he could hardly call his toying around, maximum effort or any effort really). The shoe still on her feet squeaks across the restroom floor, scuffing up the linoleum with rough black streaks.

"I'll try really, really _, really_  hard—not to be offended that you're leaving a guy this soon. Are you not entertained? Did I…" He trailed off, yanking an aglet from its hole with a gruff grunt. A languid shrug followed, "not live up to your convoluted fantasy? Hm?"

He isn't too surprised by the answers that never come. It was kind of rewarding, hearing himself talk and not having to listen to an explanation that he wouldn't take into consideration. Sakura the whore would have cussed him seven ways to Sunday and then categorize him as the _, 'typical fuckboy'._

He looks up to watch her, amusement turning his lips up at the corners as he trudged idly around her, too preoccupied with unwinding the sneaker. "What did we just discuss about speaking when you're spoken to?"

He could feel her urgent steps to gather her shit and get the hell out of dodge. She was breathing so hard and moaning helplessly, stumbling towards the door, cradling her backpack in her arms like one would a child.

_Ah. At fucking last._

He yanked the dingy lace from the tiny shoe and discarded the shoe over his shoulder. It thudded against the ground, the  _thud_  echoes.

"I told you, we aren't finished..."

* * *

_**Two hours later...** _

"Get out, before I change my mind,"

If she had a modicum of god given sense left she would have already fled, for her life. He was stalled by several red lights and she hadn't taken the opportunity to escape the car screaming to be saved. Nope, not her. She was something else,  _stupid_ , but something else entirely.

He couldn't place her.

It was no surprise when he looked over to see her leisurely collecting her backpack, her pale amethyst eyes scanning the ground blindly, while her hands fumbled to unclip the belt strapping her firmly into place.

Naruto jabbed two urgent fingers into the ceiling command-pad of the car, engaging the interior lights. He slumped back into the warm suede of the driver's seat. He took in the girl shifting warily on the passenger side.

He clenched and unclenched his stinging fingers, the feeling was just starting to return, in the form of a stabbing pain; like acid doused pins and needles. If restraint was a line, he had by far crossed it several races ago and continued to run, unbound by its restrictions. He snapped through, past the metaphorical yellow tape, too far gone to worry about the repercussions.

He really laid into her. If he could, he would have spanked her until the white meat showed. Not that he had been meaning to go that far, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. He was only trying to shake her up a little, make it known that he wasn't the one to be trifled with.

He knew a few heavy-handed lashes would get his point across but a few escalated into, many. Before he knew it, his hands were just persistently popping her like hot white sparks. He kept picking up more and more momentum with every hit, he experienced a kind of white out behind his heavy-lidded eyes. The deafening sound of discipline and her screaming pleas only heightened his arousal.

He almost forgot how it felt to lose control. It took him months to build up and only seconds to lose.

His fingers were stinging and burning by the end but it was worth it, every hit rewarded him with a responsive cry. Her skin tensing, her nails digging into his shoulders, the skin of her ass welting beneath her leggings. He could only imagine how glorious her backside would look bare and exposed.

"Naruto-kun,"

She placed her hand on the door and froze, she wasn't looking at him.

"Thank y-you." she bowed her head formally, there was a tint of deep indigo in her hair that relied on the light to irradiate it, those glossy flyway's still weaving wreathes around the crown of her head. A fractious mess of tangles and indigo.

He scoffed.

"You really are a  _masochist._  Thanking me for spanking you black and blue. "he masked the sudden burst of pleasure he felt with common irony, "you really are fucked up."

Her head slowly rose, her eyes met his and the girl dared to smile at him, a very wide grin that slit the middle of her dry bottom lip. He zeroed in on the blood behind broken skin. He bit into his inner cheek and forced his eyes to convey the message that he wouldn't be partaking in any long goodbyes.

"I meant, f-for the ride, thank you." She clarified demurely, though for half a second, he could have sworn that trembling smile lingered defiantly on her ashen face. What the fuck did she have to be happy about? For someone who had just gotten the skin beaten off their ass, she was awfully chipper and chatty about it.

_Delusional bitch._

The look in her big creamy eyes were burning holes into him, as she hesitantly pulled at the handle of the door, her hoody zipped halfway down her chest. She didn't bother to fuss with her appearance after he spanked her into the state of disarray she now modeled so comfortably.

"Hurry along, I've got places to be," he stated in a low, pinning her with a long unblinking stare, "And I'm dead serious, don't mention this to anyone and I don't go to the cops about your little unsupervised tour through my place. Capeesh ugly?"

She gave one terse nod, shrugging her grey backpack onto her shoulders, plushy key-chain animals and ornaments were linked to the bag by several silver intertwined loops. The trinkets chimed like shards of glass and crystal. She opened the door and pathetically bucked forward. He didn't miss the small broken grunt of pain that left her as she eased her hips off the chair, with the assistance of a hand braced on the dash and the other latched around the hanger hook. She eventually heaved herself out the door, being pointlessly polite with the car door, closing it as though it had feelings.

_Fuckin' weirdo._

She left him in the near noiseless void of the humid car. Lilac lingered in her wake, like she never left. He stayed parked against the curb, watching as she sauntered towards the,  _'Corner Pantry'_ , a corner store for arguably 'cheap' booze, teeth rotting junk and innumerable vape flavors. He supposed it catered to its targeted demographic; people stumbling out of alleys hoping to wash the taste of sour dick and coarse pubes from their mouths.

A few men guzzling down alcohol sheathed inside stained, dark, brown paper bags loitered around the front of the brilliantly lit  _Corner Pantry_ , where they had probably purchased such spirits. One haggard vagrant seemed to be frozen, beer wedged between his gaping lips. He lewdly raked his eyes over the hoodie. His mouth was moving, spewing words in her direction as she approached, folded into herself like a wet blanket.

His tongue laps hungrily over his lips, a universal gesture Naruto knew all too well. To his surprise the girl didn't behave like the attention whore that she was. She didn't toss the old bastard a bone and even rushed through the doors hastily, her head ducked down. Through the glass, he watched her toss a strange look over her shoulder as though she were afraid that she was being followed.

Naruto felt his fingers tightening around the steering wheel instinctively. Oh well, she insisted on him dropping her off at this shady pit stop. If anything happened, it would be on her.

**_ZZZzzz!_ **

His cell vibrated in his back pocket.

He fished it out, eyes still trained on the store before he acknowledged the chat bubble, distorted beneath the severe lines of his cracked screen.

**_TBoss[5:15 p.m]_ ** _Uchiha is a no show. Kid is on house arrest for the umpteenth time. I'd hate to ask but_

_do ya mind picking up the slack for tonight? 6 o'clock too soon?_

**_Me[5:16 p.m]_ ** _Can I say no?_

**_TBoss[5:18 p.m]_ ** _Uzumaki, I could not blame ya. You are my hardest worker, if only you_

_could make clones of yourself. I would fire the rest of this motley crew faster than a_

_zippin bullet. Haha but yes, you cannot say no. I am all out of the options my boy._

**_Me[5:20 p.m]_ ** _Ah shucks. 6 it is boss, I wouldn't leave you hanging like that._

_You stuck your neck out for me, least I can do is show up, work and eat for free._

**_TBoss[5:21 p.m]_ ** _Free? You mean with the employee discount?_

**_Me[5:21 p.m]_ ** _Sure._

**_TBoss[5:22 p.m]_ ** _Thanks. Akimichi and Nara-the recruit, will be closing with you._

_Fuck…_

With a sigh he eyed the luminous blue digital clock embedded in the dash. He'd be late for work anyway; his chef coat was in the dryer at home.

He placed his hand on the gearshift but his eyes were inadvertently back on the man, who was now raking the few strands of hair over his receding hairline. He stayed dutifully by the door, adjusting his stiff, dingy clothes that did very little to alter his vagabond-esque appearance.

The whiskered boy decided he'd wait. Not because he gave a fuck or anything like that but because if anything happened to her, he was the last one with her. Pieces of him would be traceable on her corpse, the cops would be banging down his door and find more than they expected. It was best that he just kept watch, at least until she vacated this area of turmoil.

There was no doubt that she lived on the run-down part of town; the traffic lights were glitchy, the potholes in the streets were deeper than a ditch and the sidewalks are full of bony hookers displaying their drug-addled bodies. Their faces hidden behind porcelain masks that depicted various woodland creatures.

They hustle overtly on the sidewalk in their sparkling, skimpy outfits which left very little to the imagination. He craned his neck to watch a whore in a tan, downy, bird mask flag down a potential client, she raced to the car when it halted in the middle of the street. Fire engine red boots snug around her thighs. Naruto watches as she cat walks around to the drivers side of a tinted black SUV and bends over exposing her long bare back, tense calves and the cuffs of her glitter speckled ass. The window crept down and he could only see the bewildered creases of the driver's forehead.

The blonde boy tosses his arms around the headrest of his chair, peering through the windshield past the sallow headlights of his car. The street is so dim, the lamppost is too high off the ground, the light too distant to cast a hopeful light on anyone.

In comparison, Sakura's neighborhood was leagues of different from this cesspool of human waste. For one, the cops were constantly patrolling every interval of street even though every home was protected by a high secured gate.  _That's how the one percent lives, large and in charge._ The contrast didn't stir any surprise in him, he expected as much with a girl like the hoodie.

He eyed the clock once more.

Choji could hold down the fort during the start of the shift. Although, the guy snuck noticeable portions off people's plates and delivered it to the designated table, as though the serving size just up and changed itself. The portly bastard only came to work to eat or complain that he hadn't eaten because of his salary as a part-timer. He went around bumming ryo off  _compassionate_  coworkers, because if you cry hard enough for sympathy people feel shitty enough to fork money over. Naruto never bought the fuckin sob story, the guy looked like he never missed a meal his entire life.

Anyway, this wouldn't be the first time he's been late for work, he'd just compensate with an extra hour and tell Teuchi he was tied up with school again.

_Finally…_

The hoodie was suddenly tipping through the automatic doors, the dirty old bastard immediately seized his opportunity. Naruto's face felt thinning. Why are the old ones always the rowdiest?

He twisted and yanked the key from the ignition, the car fell mum and he opened the door. A dense breeze ruffled his plain t-shirt and he took a deep breath and began to walk towards the spectacle.

"What's that lovely fragrance young lady? Seems strikingly familiar. Must be popular round these parts!? Is it sweet and edible—you know everything they make for young girls these days is sweet, do you taste sweet baby?"

"uh-mm thank you, but n-no, please sir, I'm just tryi-"

"C'mon don't be that way," the older man grabs her wrist, "There's nothing to be shy about sweet thang, you don't have to reciprocate or nothin', I enjoy getting you young girls off, I bet you taste like a taffy dream."

Naruto clears his throat.

"Hey old timer, don't you have better things you outta be doing; like harassing the cashier for discounted malt liquor or flapping your dirty old gums about the good ol days or some shit?"

The old dirty bastard looked at him annoyed, one arm lazily encircling  _Hinata's_  petite waist, like they were old friends without boundaries. The hoodie girl trembled like a leaf in the wind, her eyes to the ground and her shoulders nearly raised over her ears. Naruto could practically hear her critical breathing from where he stood.

"Hey  _hero_ , mind your fucking business, b'for I shove a boot up your ass!" the man called out aggressively, rubbing his fat crusty hands up and down the girl's waist. He flashed Naruto a discolored grin of outdated fillings.

_Seriously, that's s'pose to scare me. Funny. My turn._

Naruto bared his teeth in an angry snarl. He may as well make this guy shit his pants, maybe that would make the whole trip out here less of a waste.

"I'll break your neck if you don't get the hell away from her,  _now_." He snapped, unblinkingly.

He stepped onto the curb, the light finally catching his feral features, the ones he normally masked for the sake of others. The man's brown eyes shined with rheumy, and widen as they took in the size and build of the young man opposing him. Resolve seemed to wash over him instantaneously.

"Hey man, I-I don't want no trouble or nothin. Didn't know this whore was yours."

Naruto nodded, squinting his eyes at the elder man's hands that still trap Hinata, "Remove your hands or lose a limb—I'm asking nicely sir," he says and as an afterthought, he grins wryly.

The elder man raises a liver spotted hand in surrender, sneaking steps backwards in retreat, never breaking eye contact with Naruto. "No need to-to take that tone of voice with me you little shit, this  _whore_ enticed me!" He claimed, wiggling a sausage sized finger at the hoodie girl. The other winos posted up against the building hooted with laughter.

"Yayaya, keep walkin'," Naruto paid the bastard no mind, he sauntered forward and grabbed the hoodie by the elbow, quickly ushering her across the street. Almost dragging her once the catcalls began.

"Is this your idea of fun? Letting these geezers touch all over you?" he asked her, earning instant gratification in the form of a pathetic whimper. He realized his knuckles were bone white, holding her harshly at the elbow.

"Why the hell did you want to be dropped off in this shitter, I could've bypassed all of this shit and taken you home."

"I—I didn't want to—to burden you."

Naruto scoffs, "Too late for that."

He looked her over and noticed a bag in wrinkled in her arms, she pressed it tightly to her chest, holding onto it for dear life.

"What's with the bag? You peddling drugs?"

"N-no," she says, and the light feathery laugh that follows makes his stomach feel like a lake of molten lava. "I-It puts my uncle in a good mood, w-w-when I bring him a cigar."

"Sounds like every nieces dream," He deadpanned, "does he knock the sense out of you too?"

Hinata doesn't respond and Naruto doesn't feel like pushing the issue. They reach the car and she hesitates at the door, covertly looking from one end of the street to the other.

Naruto sighs, "Get in the car or don't, but I'm leaving."

Her eyes are wide and her lips tremble, "Y-you can't, I'm not allowed t—to be around boys."

Naruto looks over the hood of the car, and catches her staring at him. She blinks profusely, face turning beet red and clouds of smoke pluming from her lips.

"Get in or don't." He reiterates, coolly.


	8. Look and Lick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto decides what to do with his bunny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Dubious consent, extremely vulgar language and really strange shit.
> 
> Anyway thanks to those who're still reading. I can't believe we're about to enter a new year! Too excited and I wish you all the best. The next update will probably be next Saturday.

 

* * *

Naruto cuts the car headlights the moment they turn up a dirt road.

"T-There.." Hinata says softly, pointing a finger towards the windshield. The car decelerates to a crawl and the engine is a purr instead of a roar. The car tires mill over gravel, stirring up the neighborhood dogs—whom bark and yap, awoken by the invasion.

He regrets killing the lights halfway down the runway of decrepit homes. Pieces of cardboard, other detritus and potholes riddle the darkened road—if you could even call it that. He preferred the smooth tarmac of the city, it always felt like the car tires were gliding over silk—and getting ready to levitate.

Lifting off.

He liked to imagine that, when he leaves a place behind, he's leaving a _planet_ —with his mark. As a child, he's always envisioned himself as an astronaut. A pipe dream, he knows but still—it sooths his mind and quells his paranoia of being followed. He still takes a roundabout route, instead of going directly home, though in retrospect it's all for naught since his goddamn phone had basically unveiled his location.

_Piece of shit._

_"The trailer with the bricked skirt? That dump, that's you?"_

Maybe this was the reason she would have rather endure being groped at a corner store.

He can practically feel the motion of her nodding in the passenger seat before she swallows audibly, "C—can you, please turn into the opposite driveway? I—It's abandoned."

_Well no shit. Why the fuck are we turning into it?_

They're just coming up on the run-down mobile home, when he starts to ask why but his eyes catch a dark silhouette, standing on the wooden steps of the mobile home like a sentry. He can't make out any distinctive features but the gangly height and the bottle hanging at his side is a no brainer.

_So that must be the uncle. Shit bag is already awaiting his turn…_

"Even if I park on the opposite end, wouldn't he suspect somethin."

"N-no," she swallows hard again, panic edging her voice, "h-he-he wouldn't, especially if he's already started drinking. He—he doesn't stick his nose in things."

Naruto sighs in faux exasperation, using one dexterous hand to twist the starring wheel sharply to the left. He jams his feet into the accelerator pedal, the engine revs and the car releases an angry guttural. Hinata gasps sharply, fingers clasping around the belt slanted over her ample breast as she tries to shrink into the seat.

This causes him to grin in satisfaction, as he whips the car around with a ferocious swipe of a firm and hasty hand on the wheel. The momentum tosses the little bunny slightly, her black hair sprang forward and just as quickly she crashed back into the seat, breathing wildly.

The action seems to somehow emit more lilac into the cluttered atmosphere and Naruto takes a deep breath, unconsciously absorbing it. If the headlights were on, they'd be flooding Hinata's trailer and draw unwanted attention to them.

The trailer lights, bled through a window behind her uncle but didn't give a single detail of the guy away but the guy wasn't dumb. He was obviously watching them, waiting for clarity.

The blonde grinded the gear to reverse, tossing an arm behind Hinata's headrest to squint through the back window. _Fuck, it's dark._ He couldn't engage in his taillights.

"Fuck it.."

He could see the outline of the house they're retreating towards. He'd just go by that.

"So what? You're going to just, wait it out? You've already made me late for work, so I'm just s'pose to be up shits creek with you?"

She doesn't speak for a moment. His tires dip over the uneven, rough terrain and though there isn't much space between them and Hinata's uncle—they're far enough away to take off, should he think of wandering towards them.

_Or I could just waste this fucker San Andreas style._

Naruto puts the car in park, "Well?" he prompts, grabbing his phone, he'd have to shoot that fat son of a bitch—Chōji, a text.

_N: Hey, something came up. Cover for me?_

He's caught off guard when a response comes immediately.

_C: Oh sure, ok, just leave me here with a recruit, during a full-time shift. I've never called the shots before today. I'm sure I'll do just fine operating equipment that I haven't been trained on!_

_N: Knew you'd understand, your heart is just as big as the attack it's gonna have. That's a compliment buddy._

_C: I was being sarcastic._

_N: The number one rule in sarcasm: not having to explain that you're being sarcastic. Also, don't put yourself in a place to be taken advantage of buddy—otherwise the jokes on you. See you in half an hour, and always remember, if something catches fire ask yourself WWSTBD._

_C: Oh go fuck yourself Uzumaki…what the eff is wwstbd_

_N: What would Smokey the bear do. Little tip._

_C: And if Teuchi comes before you get here?_

_N: Let's keep our options open—as far as bad shit goes. That doesn't necessarily have to happen._

_C: but it can._

_N: It hasn't…just be confident—you want to become fulltime, ya? Step the fuck up, limit the bitchin' to 2%_

_C: Ok but if this place goes down in flames.._

_N: I'll make sure I'm not implicated in anyway. Don't worry. Thanks buddy. ;}_

_C: dick_

Naruto tossed the phone into an empty cup holder, and placed the fingertips of both his hands together. He leaned back with a sigh to watch Hinata's uncle paste the steps, bottle swinging at his side. The man was thin. Hell, anorexic in comparison to the girl sitting beside him.

He raised his brows, scratching a thumb along his jaw.

"He—he'll go inside soon and then I'll be out of your—your hair, I-I swear."

Naruto hummed thoughtfully, nodding his head, "So I'm just s'pose to what?" he asks casually with a shrug, "Waste time in a car, breathing in the toxic shit you call perfume?"

He looks over at her and she's stiffer than a stale cracker. Her linear posture a literal point, long dark hair curtaining her face because she was looking down.

"I—I'm sorry." she placates.

"That ain't an answer."

Naruto sighed, trying to convey that this was a big inconvenience to him—though he's already taken the necessary measures to stick around. He hunches forward to prod at the heat option, though it's hot enough. He just wanted to see the idiot squirm in her seat and get so blisteringly hot, that she'd have to abandon that shitty hoodie. He'd smoke her out of her shell.

"Besides, that's no reason to be sorry. Do you just throw sorries around all willy-nilly thinkin' it'll save your ass?" he asks, knocking at an air vent to check its circulation. "Just be _gratefu_ l that I'm not such a bad guy. How grateful are you?"

He asks, slouching back in his seat, peering through the windshield, where Hinata's uncle still resides. The man is now lowering himself to sit opened legged on the porch, he's turning the skinny liquor bottle up when it happens.

It's the shiest way that anyone has gone about touching him, _there._ For a moment he's wondering if he's imagining it but his eyes wander down to acknowledge it. The light in the dash illuminates the small, dainty, pale hand. An eerie contrast to his sun-kissed skin, like the sun and the moon.

Her fingers tremble nervously and his dick strengths in record time, all the blood rushing to a singular point on his body.

"Jumping the gun are we?" he asks rhetorically, "How do I even know if you're any good at working those blow fish lips?" he asks, placing a thumb to the corner of her lips, "They could be props; nice to look at but otherwise defective as shit. What does your _mouth_ do?"

His fingers brush under the space beneath her ear, sliding around to the back of her fragile little neck.

Naruto's eyes bore into hers, tracing her cracked lips lightly—feeling her vapor hot breath on his fingertips. He was hard to the point of pain and what made his dick solidify even more was the close proximity of the nutcases' unsuspecting uncle. The only thing preventing them from being seen is the darkness.

A titillating tingle took his spine and he bit into his cheek, rubbing his tongue over the raw skin trapped between. Tart blood awoke his taste buds and he latched desperately onto the taste.

He pressed a firm thumb into her mouth, hooking it in her cheek.

"I'll give you a crash course. First step, suck these."

Unceremoniously he crams two fingers into her mouth, eliciting a garbled cry. She retches after he triggered her gag reflex. _This soon?_ He hadn't even ventured past the arch of her tongue.

"Amateur, you'd only be taking the tip and that's shitty head," he teases, "a mans worse nightmare."

A funny thought occurred to him. This bunny—his stalker, would virtually do anything to get into his good graces. Perhaps even allow him to do the things he's been wanting to inflict on Sakura—minus the main course. His heart is still dead set on undoing Sakura but now, it felt like Hinata could be an interesting investment. A side project, to occupy his time. Sedate his demons so that he could maintain a proper headspace.

He _doesn't_ have to fuck her, but he absolutely had to feel those puffy lips around his dick—gagging and spitting all over him.

The very idea of it had his cock straining against the firm zipper of his jeans and he took a deep breath, trying to chide his impulses. The ones telling him to recline back in his chair and unzip his fly. The ones telling him to free his achingly throbbing cock and use Hinata's mouth like a fleshlight.

His impulses were growing stronger and stronger with every passing moment that they were left unchecked. Since he's taken up residence here, he's been zoning out and thinking on a fuck-shit level and when he normally got impatient, it became difficult to think through the haze. Things began to slip more easily when he got sidetracked by his crippling addictions but things also got gritty when he ignored his needs for too long and he needed. _Needed, more._

_Fuck._

"Open your mouth, breathe from your nose," he coached and her eyes were already watering, tears trekking down her cheeks. She obliged nicely, stretching her lips apart. He thrusts his fingers deeper and her eyes snapped shut, body erupting into a labored cough.

He could feel her teeth against his knuckles and shook his head at her, "Teeth under your lips—don't want to see them, don't want to feel them on my dick or I'll break your neck and defile your rotting corpse."

She stiffens at the threat, eyes swimming in tears though she nods profusely.

"Suck...harder, use your tongue and spit."

She enthusiastically accepts the task, slowly taking in his index and middle finger, doe-eyed and fearful. Her hot mouth engulfs his fingers, sending static-like tingles down his arms, spine and straight to his groin. His breath grew shallow and he found himself leaning in to watch.

It wasn't the best action his fingers have ever gotten but those lips added to the heady effect. He lazily pushed his fingers further but not far enough to provoke another gagging. Though, personally, he enjoyed feeling a tight throat coil up around his cock.

The hoodie girl makes small distressed noises, slurping along his fingers—mouth glistening with spit, threads of it dangling from her chin and lips.

"Second step, swallow. Always swallow, good girls swallow, bad girls swallow, even ugly girls swallow so there's no excuse why you shouldn't. Oh, that and I won't be giving you the option to reject."

He pumped his fingers vigorously, getting into the spirit of teaching someone how to suck him off. He anticipated the feeling and if those lips felt anywhere near as velvety as they look.

Her mouth will be irredeemably dirty,once he gets finished with it.

"Good girl," he praises in a bored tone, too occupied with freeing his meaty dick; with his free hand, he unbuttons and yanks the zipper of his pants down. He yanks down his pants and boxers until his dick flings out. It smacks against his shirt clad abdomen. He's already unbearably hard and the palpitations echoing through the entirety of his being throb through his ears. Precum weeps over the bulbous head of his cock and he tugs a few times, spreading the thick fluid over his length.

"You were right, about one thing though. Sakura, she doesn't give me what I need," he states lowly, expertly wrapping his fingers around his own cock and with practiced ease, he began pumping himself, huffing out a relaxed breath, "but you, _maybe_ —and that's a big fuckin' maybe after all the underhanded shit you've been up to," he accuses, sighing, "maybe you could prove to me, that you aren't like her. That you appreciate me. You appreciate me, don't you?"

He cuts his eyes at her, continuing the lazy dragging strokes. The girl nods ardently, eyes flickering down at his dick both hungry and mortified. _This bitch is always in some type of internal turmoil,_ he notes to himself.

The girl licks her lips and begins to babble, "I appreciate you, N-naruto-kun, I-I always have, since the day yo-"

"Words," he says in a clipped tone, talking over her, "don't give a shit about them. What I do respect however, are actions. Proclamations are pretty to the ears but your mouth, it's got to have some better use. Some way of letting me know, you meant every nasty word you wrote to me. It's the freaky woman in those letters that I want and you—you're a far cry from her."

The girl blinks slowly, bewildered, she placed a hand flat on her chest—her fingertips patting her clavicle, "No, i-it was me, all me. I-I wrote it."

He nods, "I wanna believe that, Hinata but could'ya blame me for being a little skeptical? Something just doesn't add up, you seemed so," he grunts, placing a thumb over his slit and roving it around. If he kept going he would erupt, " _willing_ in those letters. This you—the one now, pales in comparison to _my_ bunny. _My bunny_ , fuck, she was a badass bitch. I really felt like we _connected_. I felt her, like got me, she understood me."

"Y-you felt me?" She asks softly, lips agape in wonderment.

Naruto furrowed a brow, "No, not you— _my_ bunny. _My_ girl. You can't even embody half the presence that she had on paper. I can't stand that shit, people pretending to be someone they're not."

"I-I wasn't pretending Naruto-Kun. I really do—want you, I meant everything."

Naruto tutted and shook his head.

"Forgive me for saying but, when I look at you, I can't see a single trace of her in you. First off, you aren't much to look at; thin—with balloon tits and what the fuck is with the hoodie? Do you even wash that shit? Wearing it every goddamn day isn't helping your case to gain acceptance. Physically, other than your impressive rack—you don't have much going for you. Shit, I lied, your eyes—they're alright I guess—if you're into pupil-less weird shit."

The girl lowers her head defeatedly, shoulders slumping.

"Aw, c'mon don't start this bawling shit, I'm not above shoving my dick down your throat and driving across the street to let your uncle get glimpse. Is that what you want? Cause I have no qualms about doin it."

 _'Strict uncle helplessly watches niece getting skull fucked in the front yard'._ The type of taboo porn, he'd subscribe to for twelve bucks a month.

"P-please don't…" the girl begs weakly, squirming in her seat like a prepubescent girl.

Head still downcast, her breath quivered audibly, hair veiling her reaction (He's disappointed he can't gauge). He could have sworn he heard a whimper as the girl lifted shaky fingers to dry (what he suspects are) tears. She sniffles a moment later but otherwise remains silent.

"Eyes up here," He demands and after a few heavy breaths, she slowly raises her head. Her atmosphere greying eyes trained on him; low with both sadness and apprehension. "Now, if you're finished with the useless waterworks, I'll get to the point. While, you've lost the privilege of being _my_ bunny. There's an opportunity for you to be something else."

There's a tinkle in her eyes, visible, like a spark in the starlit sky.

"W—what can I-I do?" she asks helplessly, hanging on his every word, staring on raptly.

Naruto grins slyly, staring out the windshield for a moment, "How about, I think on a sufficient title to dub you with and in the meantime—you demonstrate the abilities of those bony fingers and maybe—if you're feeling frisky enough, you'll put that mouth to use and make me believe that you aren't full of shit."

The blonde lets go of his half-hard cock and reaches over to press into passenger seat belt ejector. Her bemused expression tells him that, this whole ordeal is about to be intensely unfulfilling and unsatisfying.

Being a manipulative asshole has always had its merits; one being, warping the truth significantly—to the point where the lines of the lie and the truth are blurred. He does have a use for her, that much he can attest to as being—truth. However, that use is nothing she'll be pleased with. It's on the downlow; private and depreciating. But through manipulation he's managed to hook her with the one thing she's desperately in need of: Being useful to him, because of that sick infatuation of hers.

She seems eager to please him and he'd have to be a fuckin' dumbass to not exploit it, to not see how far he can go with her willingness to obey him. For whatever reason, this psycho really wanted to prove herself to him and quite frankly, if he's being honest, he wants her to prove him wrong.

He wants her to put up and shut up, like Sakura wouldn't do. Not necessarily to fuck her, because he still has high hopes for the frost queen, Sakura. She's a piece of shit and that's more of his style, his taste in victims.

Anything he chooses to do with Hinata would be off the books of his plan and while that allotted him some time to get his shit together and indulge a little, it could also lead to a ton of mishaps. The major mishap being, losing his cool entirely and getting blood on his hands way too soon.

Maybe she does something to thoroughly piss him the fuck off and he just—he just presses against a pulse too precisely. He just…clasps her delicate throat too tightly and succumbs to that sadistic little thrill of his that he couldn't seem to shake. It wouldn't be the first-time things went south because he decided to have a side project.

_Third times the charm._

Though he wasn't opposed to the idea of things going horribly wrong, he'd just rather them not go so wrong—this soon.

And they won't but even if things end up getting a little messy, he still had the basement to detain his mistakes until he could manage them—or _compassionately release them_. Whichever came first.

_"L—like this…"_

He can't fully process the exact moment of when she moved in on him but he looks down to see her head in his lap.

Her slightly cool fingers around the base of his cock and her hot, wet, mouth already polishing the bulbous head of his meaty dick. _Her mouth is so small._

The lewd noises that fill the small atmosphere of the car are unnecessary but he rationalizes this as her lack of experience. Naruto finds himself slouching in his seat drunkenly, placing a hand at the side of his hips to his belt loops. He pokes a thumb through and drags his pants further down his thighs, lifting his hips slightly off the chair—and the fuckin' lunatic starts fitfully gagging around him. Her tiny throat clenches up around the monstrous girth of his dick as her reflexes fight against the unexpected intrusion.

_Fuck._

He expects her to let up, to claim her breath and regain her bearings but once he's seated again her mouth continues polishing off the tip of his dick—frightened to venture past the ring of his head. Naruto yanks his pants and briefs down, just around his knees, though when he pulls his thighs apart they slip down his legs and fall around his tensed calves.

"Weak, boring," He comments indifferently, shifting to get comfortable in his seat. He bends both arms behind the headrest so he could watch her meander around his dick with a dry mouth and unfamiliarity, "useless, you talked a big game about sucking dick and this is what you've come up with?" he asks feigning disappointment. It wasn't the best head he had ever gotten but it isn't the worse either. He could work with it.

Her dry, hot mouth goes conflictingly still for a moment. Her nostrils flare with a sigh.

"For starters, don't resist. Open your mouth, let the spit flow, suck and lick," he suggests, staring through the windshield at her uncle's slumped form.

The girl starts gaining some friction, though her jaws are stiff—as is her neck. Her dry lips start chafing the sensitive skin of his cock and he reaches down blindly, under the curtain of hair. He brackets her jaws with heavy fingers, stalling her attempt to satisfy.

"I swear to fuckin' god, if you chomp my dick—I'm going to split your ass in two," He threatens sincerely. Her jaw goes slack after a moment but he keeps his fingers assigned to them, just in case she reflexively does so again. Her entire face trembles and he edges his fingers up to feel those puffy lips.

They're painfully dry, peeling and stretched to a thinning limit.

"For fucks sake ugly, stop resisting—good girls aren't afraid to get their lips wet, I can literally feel you trying to swallow around me. It's unenjoyable. Cut the shit."

"Mmh!" She plops off his dick and just as he suspects, he's dryer than a bone buried in the Sahara.

He stares at her, she stares back remorsefully.

"Who told you to stop?"

She shakes her head noncommittally and doesn't answer.

"You said you loved me, ya?" he snaps.

She nods, "I—I-I do, b-but I can't N-Naruto-kun…you're too—too big, I'll choke…I'l-"

"It's just more of me to love, and you're going to suck it or I'm going to forcibly fuck the figurative shit out of your throat. Your choice."

For a solitary moment, he couldn't hear her breathing and before he could make any demands she descended on him again. This time was different. Threats were certainly an incentive for cooperation, then again, there's only so much fear you could strike into a person's heart before they required something more…convincing.

The tip of his cock is suddenly immersed in heat, and those lips felt like pillows around him. Wet, hot, tight pillows. He hadn't braced himself for how amazingly good those blow fish lips felt once they were moistened up and wound tightly around him, sucking him up greedily.

He fell back into the seat with a tortured groan, " _Ah, shit…shit…"_

Hinata is awkwardly laying across the gearshift, the telltale rattling of the pills in her hoodie pocket momentarily distracting him but he quickly zones it out in favor of the humming he feels around his excessively throbbing member.

He places a palm on the back of her head, fisting it and urging her further down on his cock. Wet gags fill the car. Naruto grabs another fistful of hair and fucks up into her wet, tight orifice with inconsiderate force and speed. Hinata whimpers, desperately trying to accommodate every furious thrust. Helplessly surrendering her mouth to the thorough raping of it. Her tear clumped lashes flutter and her serene eyes close, tears trek down her cheeks and drool spills from her lips. Each gag and wave of seizing muscle accompanies Naruto's brutal thrusts.

"Fuckin' cock hungry slut," Naruto cooed, void of aggression, rampant with lust.

She moans against his stimulated skin and his jaws tighten, feeling her throat nudging at his cock rhythmically. He was having a hard time believing that this was her first blowjob. Sure, she was clumsy as shit and if he hadn't been so absorbed in the moment, he could feel the subtle scraping of her teeth over a vein. But even with so many mistakes, he shouldn't be this far gone.

He couldn't blame her for choking. His dick was a demolishing tool that her lips could hardly flex pliantly around. His eyes rolled around behind his eyelids for a split second and he felt drunk in this feeling, lost to that tight little mouth trying to cram his thick wad of beef down.

He snarled, impaling her mercilessly, hips rising from his seat as he rolled his hips. He couldn't stand to not be engulfed in that cozy, ravenous pit of heat.

She choked and her throat closed up around him. He groaned, goosebumps beading his skin, _"Keep crying, keep fuckin' gagging…"_ he says through his teeth, staring down at her frantic eyes, which are now locked on him. Sometimes his cock would poke against her inner cheek, sometimes it slipped out and skid across her sinfully pouty, wet lips.

The next time it slips out, the blonde grabs the base of his heavy dick and slaps it lazily across her lips several times, "Open your fuckin' mouth," and hesitantly she does, "spit," he demands, tracing the slick head of his dick over her bottom lip. A dark tremor coats his spine and he relishes the look of unguarded fear on her face.

He watches keenly, her red flushed face looks increasingly nervous but she hocks up a thick glob and smears it over the head of his dick, sucking on the tip like one would a delectable butterscotch candy. Her tongue drags lightly over his pre-cum weeping slit and his mouth goes slack.

"Atta girl, spit on it again and then, I'll get back to stretching that tiny throat out."

Her eyes widen like she would object, her lips tremble, her face is a mess of mucus and saliva. It's so fucking dirty and he's loving every moment of it. Insides seething with delight.

The next glob is sloppier and she marvels at the thick spit as it runs down his length.

"You gonna fuckin' _look at it_ like the seventh wonder, or are you gonna _lick at it_?" Naruto asks, the lunatic takes too long to answer, tears welting up in her eyes like she's just seen the messiah.

_What the fuck.._

Naruto sighs in exasperation, without ceremony he cradles her head and burrows down her esophagus with fierce precision—muscles taunt. Grunting and groaning low in his throat.

"Fuck," he hisses, fucking her face with a relentless cadence, "your mouth feels so… goddamn good."

The lazy drag of her wet lips, up and down the groves of his length had him seeing stars, had his heart and cock beating in tandem, had his drenched dick seeking out the inferno heat towards the back of her throat.

His hips were moving in reckless abandon, thick globs of spit coating his veiny cock. His head was spinning in vertigo. Hoodie girl looked like she'd faint, which somehow turned him on even more, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"You little psycho fuckin' slut, actin cutesy like you've never had a dick ravish your throat."

"Mmmh?!"

Naruto assumes it's an objection and he tuts, shaking his head.

"Do you take your uncles dick? Huh?"

"Mmh-mmh!"

"That's so fucked up," he growls feeling his dick twitch in her mouth. " _Ah Fuck._ I bet he wears you around the house like a fuckin' dick-mitt, that's probably why he doesn't want you hangin' around guys your own age. He want's that hot, tight mouth for himself. Does he fuck your dirty little cunt too?"

She shakes her head profusely, "Mmmh!" she cries at the same time he grunts at the motion.

Naruto laughs sardonically, "I bet you're just as thirsty for his dick too. Eh? Does he make you beg? I bet this shit turns you on, nasty little slut."

Her eyes are full of pristine tears and he's losing it, feeling her throat spasm around him. He groans out loud, "Jesus, fuckin chri…shit, I want to see you cry…cry…cry for me." He means to demand it but it comes out breathy, like a sigh.

He knew most of what he was spewing was rose-colored bullshit but at this point he'd generally say anything to reach the climax. To nut in this bitch's throat and leave before anyone could call him or his boss could arrive to work and find out that his ass isn't there.

"Mmm!" she sputters up bubbles of spit around his shaft, "Mm!"

Naruto groans, head knocking back against the headrest, sucking air through gritted teeth.

"Almost, almost…."

His balls draw into themselves so tightly, they feel like they're going to fuse into one. This would be the fastest he's ever come from getting head. Sakura, the whore would never let him get away with this level of blatant disregard. She snaps at him like a fuckin' demoness the moment he cards his fingers through her hair. He does it anyway, despite all the bitchin', which—it turns out—only infuriates her more.

He risks a look up and wishes he hadn't. The shadow of a person looms in the middle of the dirt road, a pale flashlight skimming the area, before twisting away to retreat.

_Curious uncle on the loose…_

"Your uncle's taking a stroll," he breathed, hearing a tremor in his voice, "maybe he'll wander over here and catch you being an insatiable dirty little whore. Slobbering all over a dick that isn't his."

"MMmh."

He bucked his hips restlessly, feeling it drawing nearer but what thoroughly got him off was the genuine acceptance on her face. Her eyes slinked low and her cheeks hollowed and he lost his shit, entirely. He turned up his head towards the ceiling and combed his fingers through his hair, grabbing a fist full—to quell his spasms.

Saying he came is an understatement. He busted pints, cock twitching wildly, releasing ropes of hot cum down her gullet. The girl on his lap kept bobbing her head up and down, milking him through his blinding orgasm. His brain short-circuited for a moment and he closed his eyes, fingers trembling with a vicious need for more.

She eased up off him and he inhaled through his mouth, staring blankly at the ceiling and through whirring vision.

His phone begins to ring with a bell-like default tone. Naruto sighs, looking towards where his phone lay haphazardly in the cup holder.

Sakura's contact picture appears.

_The fuck does she even want?_

Before he can silence the incessant ringing, bony fingers swipe the ignore option and once again silence settles heavily in the car. If he hadn't been so worn out, he would have probably been taken aback. Instead he fuckin' bursts out laughing, wolfishly.

"Shit,ugly girl, you're gonna get me in a ton of trouble..."

_The fucking nerve..._

"By the way, I've got an assignment for you. Tomorrow, when you get dressed, nix the hoodie. If I see you around campus in it, I promise—I'll do more than spank your ass."

"O..ok."

_Ok? Just like that..._

"And don't breathe a word of this to anyone. We're not friends."

"Ok, Naruto-kun."

He looks over at her and she's smiling, and for once-he doesn't have a single insult in him.


	9. End of Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi discusses a case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've reached the end of PART 1, YAY!!!! Crazy(er) things are about to start happening. Cops will be coming into the picture real soon and this chapter is just to tell what's happening on the other side. Just a little peephole into what's to come. I've had so much fun writing this story and I'm overwhelmed by all of the comments and love. It really inspires me to work quickly! Honestly. I'll be taking a little break from this story maybe a week or two but I'll be back! I swear. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

 

* * *

**_"Menma Namikaze, 22, and the sole suspect of a grisly quadruple homicide, a little over a month ago…"_ **

_**"Four women reported missing in the early, August-September time frame, were uncovered in the suspect's (Namikaze) basement. The home previously owned by Kushina Namikaze, who is also infamous in the community for slaughtering her husbands mistresses, her husband and taking her own life."** _

**_"The macabre contents of the case remain undisclosed altho—"_ **

**_" ….young man believed to be Menma was last seen boarding the Hokuriku Shinkansen through Kanazawa, Nagano and Takasaki—where no eyewitnesses have reported a sighting since. Due to the influx of tourist, a common occurrence around this time of year—Namikaze's trail in Takasaki has gone cold and authorities presume Menma has fled the city."_ **

**_"Witnesses who have seen Menma report that he has a mesomorph build, dark unkempt hair and light blue eyes. The suspect is believed to be 180cm and athletic…"_ **

**_" …last seen wearing a faded black snapback, a jean jacket, a white surgical mask and black tattered pants. If you've seen—"_ **

Just the thing he needs right now, the press blowing things out of proportion. What hapened to the whole, _'if something's worth telling, tell it right'_ , or was the saying something else?

_Fear mongering assholes._

He poked the mute on the remote, just as his office doors swung open and a the rich smell of jasmine pervaded the space.

_Right on time.._

"Mornin Lieutenant Hatake, so, rumor has it you're being transferred to a different precinct. Care to verify this tittle tattle?"

He sighs raggedly, looking up from what should've been his _5 A.M_ pick me up—a black coffee that's more grounds than liquid. The fancy Keurig that one of his subordinates had gifted to him upon his promotion, seems to have grown legs and fled for its life. As had dozens of companionable K-cup pods, creamers and packets of Splenda.

As a result he had no choice but to infiltrate the break room and utilize the inefficient steel Capresso machine which evidently forgot it's function to grind. It's like taking a step back in time and ingesting fine dirt mingled with a hint of cocoa.

If his horrendous posture is anything to go by, today wouldn't be doing him any favors. Though his hangover isn't bad, considering he had at least—gotten a few hours of shut eye before hustling over to the station. He doesn't know what possessed him to engage in a drinking match with Genma Shiranui of all people, but he could easily write it off as stress. The type that comes with being thoroughly consumed by a cold case. He shouldn't want to touch it with a ten foot pole but, here he is, again. Pushing his luck.

Kakashi points a titanium _kanpai bottle_ towards the crime scene of his missing coffee maker—which hardly offers much evidence to go by. Only small plastic papers and tiny speckles of littered sugar.

"Have you any idea the monster who'd risk breaking and entering, just to steal the one valuable thing I own?" He asks in a groggy low.

He couldn't catch a break, not even in a building that based itself on justice and a code of conduct.

"Nope," the woman replies, over exaggerating the, _'p'_. "Is that why you look like a bundle of crap?"

"More or less," Kakashi says, placing a palm to his pulsating temple, "I'm drinking the sewer shit from the break room…tastes like they grew a fucking plant from this brew and tossed it's excrements in a pitcher."

The woman plopped in the seat opposite Kakashi. She chuckled at his analysis of the notorious break room brew and lounged in the reclining chair.

"No, no," the woman wagged her finger, peering at Kakashi smugly—knowingly, "I know that look, you got sozzled last night. But if I hadn't known the _look_ , I'd know because your bestie, Might Guy records all your _adventures_. He takes a plethora of photos via—well, via whatever-the-fuck media he chooses to use. Sometimes he updates all of them."

Kakashi scoffs, he's finding no noticeable relief with this value brand coffee. It's like the universe is trying to tell him something. Maybe open up a case to find the looter who had the balls to rob him.

"Adventure," Kakshi repeats, slowly, realizing he had zoned out. He also wasn't feeling particularly talkative this early.

"Yes, an adventure. I watched you take down seven, _counted em_ , seven Jägerbombs."

"Only seven?" he asks in mild disappointment, "I feel like I drank a fucking distillery out of business and cracked my skull against a brick wall."

"That bad huh?" Rin cackled, "Anyway, I noticed your shitty attempt at thwarting an answer. Are you leaving me?"

Kakashi sighs, slouching back in his seat, there are files littered across his desk. The migraine inhabiting his brain had spread gratingly and stalled his actions to throw himself whole heartedly into the task at hand. Coupled with the fact that he hadn't been sleeping properly and his dog, had managed to clear the fence in the yard and run off. This hell-storm of an investigation felt like a nightmare within a nightmare.

"Why ask, if you know?"

The doe-eyed woman with trendy short brown hair, placed two aspirins on top a manila envelope.

She offered him a cheerful smile and stared, "Just wanted to hear it, straight from the horses mouth."

"Officer Nohara, you're my personal pharmacist and a woman whose covered my tail more times than I can fathom. I'll never be free of you, even you know that." he teased, placing two fingers over the aspirins. "But you've heard right, I requested to go."

"The Menma Namikaze case?" she asks, nodding tentatively. People around the department had a way of referring to this case, with a dreadful voice but not Rin Nohara.

She was more up to speed on the details, and borderline obsessed and tethered to it. Kakashi has encouraged her to work beside him but always declined, stating that she doesn't have it in her to see things the way he does. Rin isn't really a field agent but Kakashi has always liked her bookworm nature. Because she is so compassionate, she's often benched. Policing was tough work and not everyone was built to enforce justice like Kakashi does. Like he will continue to do, selflessly.

Compassion was a disease in policing, difficult to balance. A conscious is hard to navigate when there was too much heart involved. But Kakashi knew better, he has seen gruesome things in his career and he knows there are real demons roaming the Earth. They're masquerading as humans, but under all that flesh and bone-they're dark entities. Soulless.

Everyone has their reasons for doing things but crime was a sentence, no matter the groundwork leading up it. Wrong is wrong.

"That'd be the one." He confirms undesirably. He tugs down the cloth of his scarf, just below his breath moistened lips and tossed back the pills in his palm. He swallowed several times to fully keep the dryness down. Rin handed him a half full fun-sized bottle of water and he scoffed, accepting the proffered drink. He twisted its cap and guzzled the lukewarm water.

"So, naturally you're going it alone?" She asked expectantly. "This could potentially be the dumbest thing you've ever done."

He shrugged, with a quenched grunt, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder. The plastic knocks the rim of the trash bin and teetered inside.

"You think? This whole time I thought underestimating my dog's passion to escape was the icing on the cake."

She chuckled and leaned against his desk, lacing her fingers together. Her tawny eyes full of mirth.

"Maybe a close second then? I admit I'm a little envious of you, you can take any assignment you want. The Menma Namikaze case, I've had my eye on it since I first read about the mom. Can you even grasp how traumatic it must've been for him, his mother took her life right in front of him. The poor kid."

Kakashi cleared his throat. "Yes, the poor child who's a prime suspect in four murders. He definitely deserves our sympathy." He stated sardonically.

"It's just like you said, he's a _suspect._ The murders took place in his basement but who's to say he had a hand in anything. You know as well as I, that  things aren't how they seem--nine times outta ten."

"Except when it's glaringly obvious. The kid isn't exactly being subtle." 

"Multiple sources say that he was a nice kid, extremely polite and charming. At this point we're going on a hunch because he decided to skip town? What if he just wanted to get away from this place and everything it's ever meant to him. Did you ever think that he gets backlash because of who his parents were? He's a victim and a survivor of abuse, he was thrown into a corrupt orphanage with no clinical help in the wake of enduring that much trauma. I can't imagine why he hadn't ran away sooner."

This was the thing with Rin. She tried to get in the minds of every animal, she meticulously studied their files from top to bottom, examining their vocal reports or video interrogations. She prodded and prodded until these criminals became more human than their victims and she felt obligated to speak on their behalves.

A bit too trusting for Kakashi's tastes but that's what made her different.

"I wish I could see it through your eyes Rin, but with the way this world is set up, I don't put it past him. As it stands now he is responsible for the murder of four young women. Four. I wish I could give this asshole the benefit of a doubt but the evidence is condemning. Trust me...the moment I have any doubts, I know who to call."

Rin opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.

Kakshi reached for the remote, aimed it at the television pinned in the corner of his office and turned up the volume.

Good or bad, answers were needed and he's prepared to do whatever it takes to find closure for these women and their families. Guys like Menma don't just stop killing, they can't. 

**_"_ ** **_Inspector Sarutobi, Hiruzen arrived at the scene at approximately 7:10 a.m. and joined Lieutenant Hatake, Kakashi at the crime scene. Inspector Sarutobi, Hiruzen pronounced all victims deceased at 7:24 a.m. by visual observation that the victims were not breathing and by tactile observation that the victims did not have palpable carotid pulses or any other indications of heartbeats or respiration._ **

**_Inspector Sarutobi visually examined the bodies and observed what appeared to be multiple sharp force injuries to the throat, chest and ankles as well as dozens of cuts and bite marks. Inspector Sarutobi noted that the eldest woman, recently identified as 34 year old Ōtsutsuki,Kaguya—rigor mortis was not yet evident and early indications of livor mortis were observable on the anterior of the body and the right side of the face. While authorities are withholding an official estimate pending all autopsies, Inspector Sarutobi speculated the last victim, Kaguya, had been dead approximately 2 to 4 hours. Inspector Sarutobi indicated that further details would be available in the official autopsy reports when it is released to the public."_ **


	10. Mom and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto has a nightmare  
> Naruto calls Sasuke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prologue for part II. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

 

* * *

_Pull it, for mommy._

_Mommy needs this, don't you love mommy?_

_'Yes…'_

_D-d-do this for me, do this f-f-or me please._

_'Will this make you happy again?'_

_Oh baby boy, it'll make me the happiest woman in the world. You want mama happy, don't you?_

_'but…I'll miss you.'_

_And I you but sometimes, things are awful baby, so awful and heavy—unbearable. It can be hard to bear. My heart is dying baby, my heart is bleeding and I—I'm suffering. Mama needs your help, to ease the pain. You're so brave, so strong—everything I could have ever asked for in a son. I just need your strength, I just need your help._

_'Can't we take you to the doctors, they can help if there's something wrong inside your heart. Please Kaa-sa-'_

_There's nothing they can do for me baby. Look at me, I need this, I need you to be my little soldier. Ok? No, what's that you told your father you wanted to be a-a_

_'Ninja…'_

_'Ninja's are brave, they mean business baby. They have missions. Think of this as your mission, ok? I know it's heavy and it'll be loud but we're going to squeeze this right here. We're going to squeeze it really, really tight and you're going to let me go…let papa go. We'll see each other again._

_'When? Kaa-san you're scaring me.'_

_Oh baby, don't cry this isn't goodbye. I promise, look at me, hey—I swear things are going to be fine. You listening to me? I just need—I need you to do this with me. Save me. Ok?_

_'I don't want you to go, I don't want you to go…I dont want it hurt you.'_

_It's only temporary baby, trust me, ok. Mommy just feels very sick and this is the only way, the only way to make her better. This isn't goodbye. Papa and I are just so tired. So, sleepy. We want to rest. You don't understand but someday you will.  I don't have the strength, alone, to do this, I'm not as brave as you. I need you to be stronger, I need you to squeeze with me. On the count of three._

He sometimes sees it, as plain as day. It's burned into his retina. A nightmare he's woken from often, a routine he's grown to anticipate dreadfully.

He's in a heap of cold sweat and wheezing. Choking and crying. He's puking in the bathroom sink and scrubbing the pigment of his skin from his fingers. Clawing at his flesh with blunt nails and foamy antibacterial soap, until blood dyes the tap and his wounds are stinging and festering.

It's like a trans, which makes his eyes hot and blistering. He bites his cheek so hard blood seethes through the spaces between his teeth, dribbles of bloody saliva trickle down his bottom lip and dingles from his chin.

_Get a grip, get a fuckin grip…_

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, which does nothing to lighten the tightness of his chest. Tears trek angrily down his cheek and an animistic noise erupts deeply from his throat.

He can feel something boiling under his skin, energy hyphening and making him restless. Angry. His cheeks puff and he can feel the veins in his temples palpitating irritably. The next thing he knows, he's rearing his fist back and thrusting it through the medicine cabinet with all his might and fury. The sound of glass shattering is sharp. Shards of jagged teeth dig into his knuckles, shredding his fingers like paper.

He switches fists, pummeling the mirror tirelessly, hoping to cast out this feeling that won't let him sleep. The more he swings the heavier it gets, driving him to enthusiastically focus all his strength into tearing the fucking mirror apart. Even though it fucking hurts, even though he'll live to regret his actions in the morning.

Right now, feels like forever and he's sick as fuck of living in this particular moment.

If he must beat the shit out of a fucking mirror to sort himself out, so be it.

_Help mommy…_

Although he is wide awake, the dream still seems to flicker through his conscious mind, fragments of memory bursting through his brain like multiple aneurysms:

Red speckles across his face, his shaking hands and his feet.

Any way that it can reach him it does, and he is swept under the undertow of his mother or whatever remained of her.

It's warm, dark and spreading across the floor like a tyrant tide out to drown him, to suffocate him.

His ears are ringing, screaming, screaming louder than he is. He can't shout over it, the noise is infinite, like a nuclear blast. It's condemning and he knows it, although he desperately tries to deny it.

In the pit of his stomach, he can feel that she's gone and she's lied to him.

The ground somehow elevates up to his knees and an ocean of deep red engulfs him.

It seeps right through him; flesh and bone. It eats away at his flesh like sulfuric gas.

It only takes a speck and he's shuffling away and yelling and yelling. His head swiveling, his stomach lurching and he's puking all over himself and choking. His heart beating like a hammer in his tiny chest as he stares into the cold dead eyes, and they stare right back at him. Rivulets of blood streaming down her crown and staining the whites of her eyes.

He calls to her, she doesn't answer.

He keeps calling, and calling and calling but nobody answers except the voice in his head.

_You killed her, you killed her._

* * *

Naruto doesn't go back to sleep. He grabs his jacket, his phone and car keys and calls Sasuke.

The bastard that never sleeps.

Sasuke picks up on the fifth ring, inhaling deeply before stonily asking, "What the fuck do you want?"

"You."

Sasuke goes radio silent for a moment and then he starts laughing, "What's the fucking occasion, Uzumaki? Don't fuck with me dobe."

"You're right, I'm not a fuckin' faggot like you but I wanna get my hands on some blow and I hear you're the plug for that shit."

Shikamaru Nara, the newest addition to their motley crew at work, spoke in high regards about Sasuke selling to him. Although he is always none too pleased about the price, he claims the trips are always worth it-though the come down is earth shattering. Naruto has delved into this department before, nothing too irreversible or life altering. He's never done it to the point that he has to ween himself off of it. Most people say it's taking a gamble but he had far worse addictions to fret over.

There's a dark laugh on the other end of the phone, like thunder. Sasuke sighed, obviously enjoying having the upper hand.

"There it is, the real you. Not that fucking lie you broadcast at work. You know, I've had you pegged from the moment I met you. You're just like me, except you choose to lie about it. Why?"

Naruto scoffed, stepping outside onto the porch and slamming the door with a wince. A sharp pain slicing through his knuckles.

"Look, how about you spare me this whole-brother bear shit. Will you sell to me or not?"

"This shit doesn't come cheap and if you think you can get over on me you've got another thing comin."

Naruto shrugs, "Lucky for you I'm not strapped for cash at the moment. You needn't beat around the bush. What's the fuckin' price bastard?"

Sasuke made a throaty noise on the other end of the phone, "You."

"Which entails?"

There is shuffling on Sasuke's end, he breathes into the receiver and laughs quietly.

"You come over, we hit a few lines together and whatever happens—happens."

Naruto pauses on the last step, the brisk cold numbing his bloody fists.

"You're not fucking me and I'm not fucking you, that's out of the question. I'm not fuckin gay." He explains through gritted teeth, biting back the pain of clasping his cell so tightly. The blood on his fingers, smearing along his cheek.

Sasuke says, _'Ha'_ into the receiver. A sound so deep that it rattles his eardrum.

"Why put a label on two guys just shootin the shit? Don't be so fucking linear guy, I know how you straights operate. You like to be on the receiving end, it's easy to cope with that way. A mouth is ah mouth after all."

Naruto strides across the pavement, eyes staring at the silvery-pale moon.

What's with this guy? One minute he's with a girl, the next a dude. Regardless of the label, bisexual, Naruto still chooses to call him gay.

"I'll be there in ten teme...just have the fucking stuff drawn."


	11. Drugs and Sex

 

* * *

**_One week later..._ **

Sasuke lives on the sixth floor. In room  _sixty-six._ One more goddamn six and the place would be giving everyone a thorough warning of what to expect, should they choose to associate with the asshole in any way.

Is Sasuke Satan? In a sense that, Satan, consciously distributes drugs to mentally unstable and destitute souls. Those individuals fall victim to the intense need to nurse their chronic afflictions by any means necessary and Sasuke thrived from it.

But he isn't here to judge, just state the similarities between the fucking king of hell and his dumbass coworker.

Sasuke peddles hard narcotics, the type of shit that's never easily remedied or beaten by a quick sweat-out in a scolding hot shower or some halfhearted pledge to try and beat the biological shit that happens to your body once these things are administered.

So, fuck ya, he supposes this is one degree of Satanism that Sasuke indisputably qualifies for.

Once again, no judgement.

The playing field will never be proportionate between them, because he knows he has done far worse things, than encouraging a few filthy fucks to inject poison into their veins. His counts of Satanism were significantly more grandeur than Sasuke's. Though he supposes, intrinsically, they were both in the same business, using different techniques.

_Leading the sheep to the slaughter._

Naruto sighs, looking for a space to park the Audi, in a multi-storey car lot. Of course, the lot is jammed packed with vehicles and motorcycles horrendously crammed on the first and second floor.

He has no other choice but to keep following the spiral of floors, until he reaches the nearly vacant third floor. This means he has to trek back downhill to street level and walk to the apartment.

_Fuck._

* * *

Sasuke has always struck him as a nihilistic bastard, from the moment his supervisor introduced them and entrusted his primary training to Sasuke.

A dick move on Teuchi's part, given the fact that Sasuke was obviously a shit worker. A conclusion he had drawn within the first ten seconds of being employed and under Sasuke's indolent tutelage. Sasuke never lifted a finger to demonstrate a goddamn thing for Naruto's consumption of protocol (not that he complained, puttering around gave him time to think).

Naruto had a sneaking suspicion that his boss, had only handed the task to Sasuke to try and strap him down with responsibility.

_Well that shit backfired, big time._

Naruto could tell that Sasuke didn't give a shit about, marginally anything. If his first day on the job had taught him anything, it's that Sasuke is neither an ambitious human (worker) nor a glowing customer service representative. And that was putting it mildly.

* * *

"Who's your friend, hm? He's kinda hot."

A woman purrs from Sasuke's lap, as they sit on the edge of the king-sized bed.

"We aren't friends." Sasuke states breezily to the girl he's currently draped over behind.

Two dark sets of eyes gleam maliciously at Naruto, who has been sprawled out on the bed before it became occupied.

The chick teeters forward clumsily, giggling like a ditzy drunk as Sasuke folded against her back and nibbled at her cheek. He cups the side of her face and the girl raises shakily on her hands and knees, her blouse is more rumpled than it had previously been. He surmised that before she and Sasuke came into the bedroom to bother him, they had probably been going at it in the living room.

"Stop acting like you're some deep and mysterious loner. I've known you for two weeks and you wouldn't invite anyone into your pad unless you vibe with them."

"Oh? You  _know_ me?" Sasuke inquires in a gravelly tone, which draws a giggle from the woman with the scarlet lips.

"Not that hard to figure out, no offense."

Sasuke only chuckles indifferently and nips at the woman's ear. She moans, her long glossy lashes flutter and she bites on her bottom lip coquettishly. Her lips slip from between her teeth as her breathing intensifies.

"That feels nice baby."

The sound clouds his mind, like a pillowcase full of cotton or maybe it's just the weed, finally doing its damn job. Either way it's like a sixth sense, heightening everything but also dulling them too. Wavy, and unfocused.

It's hot in Sasuke's uppity loft. Humid enough to get him working up a sweat in a thin white T-shirt and his grey cotton shorts with the drawstring. He knew better than to come dressed like the weather suggested, he'd bask in the frigid temperature after he left the sauna that is Sasuke's loft. He isn't affording this place on Ichiraku's minimum wage, but he could on a dealer's salary.

_The deceptive bastard.._

It's a lot flashier than what Naruto would go for, but then again, he was trying to remain discreet and live a relatively recluse life. Something Sasuke should have been doing, given the illegal side profession.

Sasuke's bedroom doubles the size of Naruto's, both rooms are equally vacant of personal belongings. There's a balcony behind sheer white billowing curtains, opposite of the bed. The door is slightly ajar and through the glass Naruto can see Konoha's sprawling skyline in glittering neon jewel tones. A blinking red cell tower looms off in the distance and the city noise is far too indistinctive.

Naruto just lays there, taking a drag from a horribly rolled joint that everyone had been sharing up until this point. He can taste the lipstick stain printed on the end, can feel the gunk of it slicking his lips. He can taste Sasuke's alcoholic breath and he can't decide which bothers him more. He should've just rolled his own.

"Hey, Naruto—should we tell her?" Sasuke asks tauntingly, he lifts his head just a fraction. His unruly head of hair looks like a dark crown of black feathers and soot. Coal dark eyes, under lazy lids—connect with hard icy blue eyes and the communication is telepathic.

It goes a little something like this:

_'I didn't think you'd mind being drafted into a threesome.'_

_'I do, especially when there's another dick involved, literally and figuratively. You just wanna fag out.'_

_'haha, I'm not going to touch you.'_

_'Why the fuck should I do this?'_

_'You owe me for the free shit last week.'_

_Fuck..._

Naruto furrows a brow at his coworker in faux confusion and plucks the joint from his lips. His nostrils flare and a heap of smoke spirals out. He carelessly backhands the potent aroma. Translucent wisps of smoke disperse through the air.

"What?" he asks disoriented, trying to disguise the irritation seeping into his tone like venom. He really isn't in the mood to play this stupid little game tonight, he isn't even blitzed enough to pretend.

He shouldn't have to be, the girl was what society would deem;  _fine as fuck_. The tits were off the charts, the curves would drive anyone crazy but his cock was irresponsive and he lacked the brain activity to figure out why.

 _Probably drank too much vodka_ , is what he resolutely wrote it off as. Though there were innumerous times where he was straight up shit faced and still performed well. He's never suffered from performance anxiety and has always been halfcocked way before the opportunity presented itself.

The idea of sex always got him solid as steel, the mere suggestion of it. But here he was, flaccid and capped.

He could get it up for an ugly with milky tears in her eyes but not a willowy stranger, who's flawlessly armed to the teeth with impenetrable beauty.

_The fuck.._

"He's my little brother."

The blonde licks his lips and raptly observes the dancing specks of embers on the other end of the joint that rests between his fingers.

Well this was a new backstory that they hadn't rehearsed. Sasuke seemed to be the king of improv sex, just bouncing off ideas and running wild with them. He seemed to get a thrill out of the real taboo shit. Naruto didn't understand this whole scheme. The bitch would've opened her legs for them regardless of their story but he'd entertain this nonsense.

"Naruto Uchiha in the flesh. I take it he never talks about me."

He was bored and neither of them were letting him indulge in the one thing he came for. The weed.

The girl gasps exaggeratedly, leaving her mouth agape. She looks over her shoulder at Sasuke and then towards Naruto.

"No, he doesn't share much but oh my god. Shut up! You guys don't even resemble each other!"

_It's a good thing you're pretty._

"That's a relief," Naruto teases, laughing internally. This chick was dumber than a box of rocks. He'd have to ask Sasuke where he finds these dumbass plastic dolls,"In all honesty, I dyed my hair. Black is for depressed kids and potential school shooters, right Sasuke?"

The girl giggles squeakily, a sound that would likely be the cause of the palpitating vein in his temple exploding. He isn't kidding. It's worse than nails on a fucking chalkboard and if it hadn't been for Sasuke's presence he would have mercilessly suffocated her with a heavy forearm to her nose and a flat palm over her sticky lips. That'd pump some life into his cock.

"Shots fired."

Sasuke cards a palm underneath the girls strategically unbuttoned blouse and fiercely gropes her bra clad breast. The girl gawks, a ragged moan seeping between her clenched teeth.

"He's just bitter that he can't pull it off."

Naruto chuckles, which comes out more genuine and effortless than he intended it to be.

Although he was a natural blonde, most of his childhood his mother made a ritual of dying his hair black. The first time it ever happened, he was six and the concept of changing his hair color was exciting. He always took a liking to his mother's fiery red tresses and thought the color would fit him way more.

Maybe it would make the kids in his class think he was cool for doing something adults do. Or maybe they'd notice him less, since his hair wouldn't be broadcasting his location. Either way he was certain that it would change him for the better.

The change turned out to be fruitless, he even came home with blotches of yellow paint in his hair.

When he asked his mother why she had done it, she only replied _: 'You looked like your father.'_

He'll never forget how she said it; somber, shaky and in past tense.

"I beg to differ, he looks like he could kill it in any department."

Naruto smiles smugly at Sasuke, over the girl's tan shoulder. He isn't surprised by the compliment. The chick had been giving him the,  _fuck me eyes,_ since he let himself into Sasuke's apartment. Where Sasuke uncharacteristically embraced him, and told him to  _'play along'_. Why he hadn't shoved him off and behaved as irrationally homophobic as he normally would, could easily be written off as; he didn't have shit else to do.

Sakura, the whore, was up to her usual cockblocking schemes and  _the hoodie_  hadn't been attending school for weeks. He was beginning to wonder how she even maintained a decent grade. He regretted not exchanging numbers with her and it isn't like he could track down a friend of hers and make up some excuse as to why he needed her number. Sakura, the whore had given him a hard-enough time for giving her a ride home. If she even got a whiff of any information regarding the two of them interacting she'd probably pop a molar.

Besides, what would he do with her number anyway?

Text her what? Talk about what? Her conversational skills were probably shit and even if she did turn out to be a socialite, he'd get bored with that in no time.

No, he doesn't want to talk.

The only thing he really wanted from her, were those lips back on him, absorbing him like he was her lifeline. Being a filthy bit of meat and lapping up his cum like it's a cure.

He couldn't get that night out of his head. Those fat juicy tears, and the strange fear in her eyes—identical to no one he's ever encountered. He swears, it was like a drug that night. He couldn't shake the feeling of unfettered hunger every time he thought about this ugly girl.

Maybe he really is losing his touch. This feels like the lowest he's ever sunk.

Sure, she isn't the ideal beauty—fuck, she isn't even considered an average beauty but, he'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive. He can't pinpoint the one thing that makes his dick unable to resist standing when he thought about her.

"You find him more attractive than me, who's fucking side are you on?"

Sasuke asks, pretending to be affronted.

Naruto snaps back to the present with a few heavy-lidded blinks. He takes a drag, until his lungs feel like they're on fire. He knows he's chiefin' big time and he doesn't care. It'll likely put him into a dreamless sleep, which he's banking on at this point.

He watches Sasuke hike up the girl's skirt, the silky material riding up his tattooed forearms. His dark eyes roam her backside without expression but his jaw is tensed, like he's having a hard time exercising restraint. Naruto has never pegged Sasuke as a patient individual. On the day's he bothered showing up to work, he normally got into an altercation with the rice-cooker for  _taking it's time._

"I like you both. I want to play with you both. How many girls can say they got it in with two sexy brothers?"

Naruto fixes his mouth to object but the sudden tightness of his sweats keep him quiet.

No, she isn't an ideal beauty but apparently—she is doing it for him, even when she's not around.

* * *

_N- Hey Lee, what I'm about to ask you stays between us ok._

_FB-Uh, ok chief. Whats up?_

_N- What do you know about Hinata?_

_FB-Hinata? Well, here's the thing…there are the rumors around Campus and then there's the real shit._

_N-Alternate between the two._

_FB- What specifically are you asking for?_

_N- I heard she was raped? Any truth to that?_

_FB- So this is only between us guys right?_

_N- Yea_

_FB- No one believes her but I do. I heard the full story in the gym, from the suspect's mouth. I thought he hadn't seen me but he did. He wasn't very nice about it either._

_N- Who is he? His name?_

_FB- I'm glad we're friends but I'm not allowed to speak about it. Maybe I can point him out, if we ever see him around campus but, I'm not allowed to—"slander" his character in any way._

_N- Ok but there's no one around to snitch._

_FB- My phone could have something wrong with it, something encrypted in it and if word gets out—they'll see my texting log._

_N- So, the kid must own half the town -_-_

_FB- It isn't just him…anyway_

_FB- Maybe we'll run into THEM, then you'll see…_

_N- Two people?_

_FB-Yeah, sorry I can't say much on it._

_N- It's all good, Thanks buddy._

_FB- I think it's great, that you seem to be interested in Hinata. She's been treated like crap for as long as_

_I can remember. She used to be a catch when she first got here, she and Sakura hit it off. Since the_

_whole rape thing, nobody cuts her slack. It's social suicide to even extend an olive branch towards her._

_It doesn't even feel like we're in college._

_N- Why haven't you gone to the cops?_

_FB-They won't do anything, they know…a lot of people know._


	12. Close Call

 

* * *

"I can't stand you."

She's just standing there, with her arms crossed and cutting those eyes at him, accusingly.

He wouldn't be surprised if she started stamping her feet and throwing a hissy fit.

"You don't have to stand, I saved you a seat. Sit." Naruto replies humorously to his girlfriend, he gestures at the stool beside him—knocking his knuckles against it when she continued to stand unmoving.

Sakura purses her lips and wore a grimace of disgust.

_Ah shit, what the fuck is it now…_

He probably missed a call or two. Since he began to chill with Sasuke, he's been slipping through the cracks of reality.

"You've got some fucking nerve! Her?! Of all people, her?!" Sakura starts to shrill, her jerky body language has her jewelry chiming angrily.

Naruto sighs exhaustively, looking over his shoulder, noticing that the scene has already attracted spectators.

"What am I being accused of now?" he asks in a troubled tone.

Someone at the table scoffs, and singsongs, "Uh-oh, somebody's gonna get it..."

Naruto knows it's Sai, Ino's metrosexual (self-proclaimed) boyfriend—who's skin resembled whipped milk. The guy is always wearing black midriff shirts, enormous ear gauges and skinny jeans with amateur cartoonish characters sharpie(d) onto them. Naruto cuts a threatening look at Sai, which goes unnoticed because as usual, Sai is picking through a sandwich he's procured from a zip lock bag.

"Do you really want me to say it in front of everyone?! Are you that much of a fucking lying ass pig!?"

She asks, slamming a fist into her palm to emphasize every syllable in,  _'lying ass pig'._

"What has someone told you, that I'm lying about?"

"What's going on?"

Ino asks with over exaggerated concern. She uses a pinky to scrape blonde stray blonde hairs from her face. Sakura's green eyes don't even acknowledge anyone else around them, including her friends. She's laser focused on staring, 'the truth' out of him.

"I can't even believe it, I couldn't even tell you myself—but he can and he had better have a good fucking explanation for it. You know what, fuck that! There isn't even a fucking explanation, you're a dirty piece of shit who would feed your dick to anyone with a mouth!"

He's not going to lie, he probably would.

Sai hisses, "Geeze...you two, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more...not in front of the entire school."

Sakura shakes her head profusely, "No," Sakura says to her friend and then to Naruto, "Tell me it's a joke, and that you really didn't-you just didn't."

There's a suede pink purse dangling from crook of her arm that looks like it should be weighing her down and her eye make-up is as over the top as it always is. It makes her eyes look piercing, like flaming emerald.

It isn't unusual, this whore making a scene. More than likely, one of her bulldogs probably convinced her that they had uncovered something about him. Rumors were always swirling this campus like a chronic outbreak of the flu. He doesn't know why she keeps an ear out for secondhand news. But it's what she does.

He opens his mouth to deny it but Sakura is spouting off.

"Don't tell me that you don't know what the hell I'm talking about either, you gave her a ride home?!"

Whispers began to surround them and the usual indistinct noise of the lunchroom was silenced. He could tell this drama was going to be one of the top five things trending somewhere. Their names were going to be on everyone's breath for the next two or three weeks.

"Haven't we cleared this up? You know that I gave her a lift, I haven't hidden a thing from you."

"Oh yeah?" Sakura snaps incredulously, like a challenge—like the type of person who has some sort of evidence that they just couldn't wait to drop.

He stares at her, unblinkingly and he can't get over how injured she looks. He wants to laugh in her face, he wants to admit his sins and he wants to confess that he let an ugly girl give him the best head he has ever had. That he's relived that moment and has come from it more times than he ever had during her weak and eager attempts of getting him off. He wants to make a fucking power point on exactly how well she sucked his dick and suggest that Sakura hires Hinata to properly tutor her on the art of dick sucking.

The bitch would probably have a heart attack, and she doesn't deserve to be so easily put out of her misery.

"That's all, you gave her a ride home?" Sakura cranes her neck sassily, pink hair cascading in a lustrous stream over one shoulder. The lunchroom is too quiet and his heart starts to thrash under the pressure of the undisguised attention this was drawing.

He knows she can't possibly know. She can't. But if she doesn't, why does it seem like she does. He thought he had already alibied this issue, he even bought her those expensive fucking pumps to shut her the fuck up.

He bites at his inner cheek and just laughs. Sakura's eyes increase irregularly in size and her bottom lip dropped significantly, the bitch looked like she'd start foaming from the mouth and it was fucking hilarious.

"I don't have to listen to this, I've already told yo-"

"She said she sucked you off, is she lying?!" Sakura yells, her face flushed.

The volume of whispers increase, a few people entered his line of vision and he scratched idly at his jaw. He shrugs, "Ya, well she's lying."

_Or you're lying on her. She isn't stupid enough to talk._

"Oh, is she?" Sakura asks in disbelief.

"Who's accusing him? Of what now?" Sai asks, chewing on a sloppily made tuna sandwich. The fishy aroma is potent.

"Hinata. Karin said she was in the bathroom bragging about it, saying she had so much fun sucking him off."

"What?!" Ino sputters, gawking.

"Nope, I don't believe any of it. There has to be some explanation Sak, you can't just fly off the handles on the poor guy. That girl is a fucking pathological liar. She has a whole bunch of shit going wrong in her brain. Plus, did you hit your head? This is the same bitch that tried to accuse Sass last year. She clearly has more confidence than she projects in person. She needs to be locked the fuck away for gods sake."

"Yeah," Sai agrees, gulping audibly, "You can't just come in here on DEFCON level six, over something Hinata the snake says."

Sakura bites on her bottom lips, a flash of resolve on her face before it hardens again.

"Why would she lie about this?" Sakura asks, unrelenting on the subject.

Ino shrugs, "Who knows, she belongs in the cuckoo house. People like her turn into stories on  _Snapped_."

"Nobody needs a reason to lie, especially someone like her." Sai comments, raising his brows and procuring his minute maid, Orange-aid. He begins to shake the bottle and the drink fizzles behind it's container.

"I didn't do anything with that girl. I gave her a ride home, and I went to work. That's all, why would you even think I'd do that?" Naruto asks Sakura, trying his best to look her in the eyes with genuine empathy. She stares back at him, like she's measuring the weight of his eyes.

They stare at each other for a little over ten seconds before Sakura, reluctantly (it seems), settles into a casual stance and takes a long breath. Her eyes shift away from Naruto's and somewhat embarrassingly, she chews on her lip.

"I dunno, she just, got into my head I guess. It's embarrassing what she told Karin and the girls. She's fucking obsessed with me."

"I can relate." Naruto flirts, easily, with a lopsided smirk.

"Take a breather toots." Ino says, "Have a seat, so everyone can scram and go mind their business."

People are still loitering around, observing the spectacle.

He might've hated Ino and Sai's guts but in this particular moment they proved to be useful in his case. They singlehandedly extinguished Sakura's anger way quicker than he ever could. And get this, they used fake rumors from the past to  _'dead'_ a real truth, and he didn't even have to lift a finger to defend himself.

He doesn't know why the hoody decided to run her mouth about their mutual enjoyment. Hell, maybe she didn't enjoy it at all and this was her revenge. It had never occurred to him that she'd just up and out him but here he was, dealing with the consequences of trusting someone. He gave her the benefit of a doubt, thought that maybe he was terrifying enough. Maybe he didn't have to scare her into keeping quiet, he could just dangle himself in front of her as a prize.

It turns out, this bitch was a fucking con-artist and an attention seeker.

He sucks viciously on the coppery blood against his inner wall of his cheek and his nostrils flare with an exhale.

A hand suddenly touches his shoulder, drawing him to the present. It's Sakura, giving him a cheerful little squeeze and rolling her eyes.

"I'm really sorry whiskers."

He visibly cringes at that name and avoids looking in Sakura's face. He doesn't get how this fucking whore, always preaches to him about Hinata being a liar but takes her word for it the moment she's accused him of something. It just doesn't add up that she'd be that trusting of a girl she claims to hate. A girl that she always refers to as a liar.

As much as he'd like to decode Sakura's lizard brain, he knows there's nothing complex going on in there. She lives for drama and probably felt like she hadn't been relevant in a while. Jumping to conclusions suddenly seemed like a surefire way to have people talking about her again.

He shrugs, watching people began to disperse and grow bored of the situation, "You were right, I shouldn't have given her a ride."

"No," Sakura drags out, "You shouldn't have. You can't spare generosity on that wacko, she'll twist it into something disgusting. She just needs to die already."

"I wouldn't go that far, but that chick definitely needs help." Sai chimes in. "She has some severe problems, she needs to go see the counselor."

"You say that about everyone." Ino snorts. 

"Well, it's true, this place gets mental sometimes."

"She needs a bullet between the eyes." Sakura sneers, tossing her hair over her shoulders and fixing her revealing bra straps. "Thinks she can just fuck with me like that."

"Well, that explains why she hasn't been showing up lately. I hope she flunks." Ino replies, with a small chuckle.

"No, that isn't why." Sakura says knowingly, smirking.

"Oh god, what have you done?" Asks Sai.

"I haven't done a thing. Karma just has a way of working things out. The bitch is probably just at home, licking her wounds."

It's unnerving, how he could stand to look at Sakura and not feel even a little bit affected by all the skin she currently displayed. An ensemble, she had probably spent all morning piecing together, only to run a pair of scissors through to make it more  _risqué_.

Normally his mind would drift into about a dozen different scenarios but today he's a blink slate. He's gotten harder watching his eggs sizzle on the griddle this morning.

Everything this whore has ever done, or will ever do, revolves around gaining attention. He's grown sick of it, but he'll nurse his irritation. He'll wear an affectionate smile and treat her like a trophy girlfriend, he'll take in her pompous friends like they were his own and he'd give a shit about their silly little rich-tears.

There isn't a single person he's ever cared for, that he hasn't betrayed. And while he hasn't cared for anyone in a while, the betrayal never seems to let him sleep.

He doesn't know if he should feel betrayed by the hoody or impressed that she decided to do something bold for once. Yes, she blatantly defied him and it almost resorted in his cover being blown but she defied him. She DEFIED him.

She has a backbone and he's going to break it.


	13. Famous

 

* * *

_Hey mom, I'm famous._

Menma's mug (with subtle alterations) makes it on the 6 a.m. news. It isn't the best picture anyone has ever taken of him, but he was willing to let it slide, just this once. It's grainy, like the subway footage of him changing stations that day. It's probably just a freeze frame from the exact same news clip.

_Fucking pathetic…_

He isn't going to his first class.

Professor Iruka sent out a cluster fuck of a, mass email, to his Anatomy class. He stated that he'd be absent from classes for the duration of the week and that they shouldn't get any bright ideas. The only explanation given was that he'd be out of town for personal reasons. He assured the class that he's given his lesson plans to the substitute and that he expects everyone to be on their best behavior and treat the sub as they'd treat him.

Which, to Naruto, seems like Iruka was subtly trolling.

To honor Iruka's wishes, he's decided to not even bother attending. Class just wouldn't be class without Iruka's cold listless gaze, his guttural yawns and his complete lack of sympathy when students begged for extra credit. The guy was a fucking savage. 

Excuse him, for holding his teachers to a certain standard of douchebaggery. 

Another reason he isn't going to class, and quite possibly the most predominant, had been the sudden realization that Menma is now under the scope of this town. It just really puts shit into perspective.

Seeing himself under a,  _'Most Wanted'_  banner (no matter how blurry he may have looked to the general public) really makes a guy want to sit back and think of his next move.

_It doesn't get more surreal than this._

Menma wasn't even a speck on this towns radar, one month ago and now all the news outlets seem to be competing, and running the same story all morning.

He takes a ravenous bite from a Granny Smith's apple, and his teeth slice straight through like a blade. The juices stimulate his taste buds and he bites into it again, while padding through channels with growing disinterest. The T.V flickers, choppy voices and sounds emanate from the speakers.

His lips are quirked up into a mindless smirk, thinking about the looming due date approaching and he knows—it's almost time. It's almost time to make a mark, an impact on this sheltered community.

Something red catches his eye on the screen and the heart in his chest freezes cold immediately. There's a thumbnail photo of a smiling face.

He isn't familiar with that particular expression but he knows this face.

The vibrant red tendrils of hair.

Those warm honeyed eyes.

His mother, in a bad quality photo. It's vintage. An old photo, but she's younger, her early to mid-twenties.

Her eyes are practically glowing with uncontainable mirth, like he's never seen in all his days of physically being beside the woman. Her hair is in a messy ponytail and she's wearing an apron, baring two full rows of ivory teeth.

Something clogs his throat and his chest constricts painfully. Instinctively, his clasp tightens around the remote but he only pads to increase the volume.

**_"Kushina Namikaze, the mother of suspect Menma Namikaze, had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder prior to killing; her husband, Minato Namikaze, two other women believed to be his mistresses and lastly herself. The tragedy that left Menma orphaned at the tender age of seven years old. The family therapist went on record to say; Kushina often complained about not feeling alive, while on the prescribed medications. Stating that the medication stripped the colors from her life and she didn't prefer to take them. After a week of sessions, Kushina expressed her unwillingness to consistently keep up with both therapy and medication. She discontinued the sessions, despite the therapists' clinical disapproval. The therapist recalls his sessions with Kushina to be very volatile, erratic and intense at times. Kushina would often appear to a session hours late; beaten, bruised or emotionally distraught. The therapist goes on to say that he often wondered if domestic violence had been an issue in the househo-"_ **

There's a knock on the front door and instinctively, he mashes the mute button.

He stands in the living room, motionless, staring in the direction of the door. He was hopeful that whoever it was would go away and by ' _whoever',_  he means Sakura the whore. Who else could it have been this early in the morning?

He isn't in the mood to fake being thrilled about a visit from her and he couldn't even maintain a decent poker face this early.

He stands there, listening to the creaks and plinks of the house. The smoke detector chirps and the heat kicks in with a low hiss and rumble. Car engines snarl to life outside, headlights pierce through the pleated blinds of the living room window.

The knocking continues, lighter now.

He sighs, tossing both the remote and the apple core onto the only sofa in the living room. Lucky for him the house came furnished, so he didn't have to put much thought into how he was going to fill it with things he'd likely leave behind.

He treads tiredly to the door, already scripting an apology just so things ran smoothly. With any luck, he could get back to bed and think of ways to maybe complicate things for the police. At least until he decided where he'd relocate. He wasn't going to get bent out of shape about the news stories in Konoha. People probably thought it was tragic but weren't suspecting the possibility that he could be in their backyards. In  _their_ schools, working  _their_  jobs.

This could either blow over or gain traction, depending on how he decided to proceed with this whole Sakura conundrum.

He pulls the door back hesitantly and the first thing he notices is the height of the individual on the second step of his porch. Sakura was loftier, by comparison. He then notices a baggy black hoody and two ivory glossed eyes peering up at him, heavy with languor.

_Well, well, well…_

"You're either bold as fuck or dumb as fuck for showing up. Which is it?"

He asks, his tongue slithers over his bottom lip, and he leans against the front door—examining her. If he hadn't been feeling awake before, he does now, like a resurrection of some sort. He doesn't flinch under the persistent press of the howling wind. It ruffles his plain black T-shirt and dark grey jersey shorts.

The sky is still dotted with glinting stars, although beautiful peachy tones, mingled with flaming gold begin to airbrush the skyline. It's the one thing he'd probably miss about Konoha (other than their ignorance), the scenery was aesthetic.

Hinata trembles violently and he isn't sure if it's from the overnight death drop of temperature or the fact that she thinks he's going to spank that ass. He doesn't care either way. She shouldn't be on his doorstep.

"I'm sorry, Naruto-kun. Can-I…c-c-can I make it up?"

_Naruto-kun…_

He isn't surprised to hear the explanation but it still gives him pause. She raises her head higher, to look him straight in the eye and he swears his heart declines in beats per minute.

His eyes start to zero in on her face.

Purpling bruises mar her small face. A coppery bruise pinches and swells her top lip, making it disproportionate to her bottom. His fingers unconsciously clench into fist around the door and he's clearing the threshold long before he can stop himself.

The girl looks terrified by this abrupt motion and retaliates with a forearm to her face, breathing like a maniac again. It's the same defensive mode, he recalls her resorting to when they were in the bathroom.

He doesn't get why it's her immediate reaction. To defend but never retreat or defeat. It's almost like, it's wired into her—to stand and take it. To be prey, to submit to predator.

The action is just as instinctive now, as it had been the first time he saw do it. The fear is almost tangible. It gives off a sort of arousing aroma in the form of lilac. The cloying scent envelopes him and every nerve in his body hardens.

He freezes in his tracks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—they wouldn't stop. They wouldn't  _stop, hurting me_." she sputters over and over behind the safety of her tiny arms, which are now pressed tightly across her face.

He sighs and scrubs his fingers through his blonde hair, "I'm not mad,  _ugly_. You stood your ground, as best you could against an army of  _bitch_. This isn't on you, it's on me."

It's his fault that Sakura even knew. He should've known he'd be under constant surveillance, dating someone as insecure as the mayor's daughter.

"I've already told you before, I don't hit women that don't deserve it. Relax, can't have my neighbors thinking I'm some sort of punk."

She doesn't do so immediately, but gradually, her arms slip down her face. Her wide eyes captivate him, they're still as exotic as he remembers, the lashes that frame them are wet and clumped.

"N-not…mad?" She asks breathily, cryptically. She looks dubious and he can't blame her.

" _Nope."_  He says, popping the  _'p',_ "Just the opposite, didn't think you had anything in you but tears and shit."

Blindly, he steps backward—back into the house. As the sky grew lighter, more of his neighbors would be making their way to commute to work.

"C'mon in, unless you'd rather catch pneumonia."

Her eyes were as shiny as moonstones, swollen lips slightly agape with utter bewilderment.

Even he had to admit, that shit was  _cute._  He even felt a type of warmth pooling in the pit of his gut as he twisted around and held the door open for her. She steps through and he notices the black beanie ontop her head, though tendrils of lengthy dark hair spill from beneath.

The saccharine fragrance of lilac doesn't nauseate him as much as it had when they were in the small space of his car a week ago. It's pleasant and not too heavy today.

"Not mad," he reiterates lowly, "but, we had an agreement—that you wouldn't show up at my place without  _my_ permission."

The lock is audible when he bolts it hastily. The house is so quiet that he could hear her laboring breaths, like she had run all the way to his place.

"I-I missed you, I'm  _sorry_."

She replies, softly, from behind him.

"This whole  _sorry_ shit again? You know sorry has no effect on me, right?"

He sighs deeply, letting his shoulders slump. He sucks in a long breath and twists around and when he does, the air gets trapped in his lungs.

Naruto watches the scene of this crazy little bitch, beginning to take off her clothes. It isn't hurried, isn't rehearsed, isn't trying to mimic a strip tease or an over the top porn scene.

It's clumsy, cringeworthy, impenetrable awkwardness and raw.

Like he's snooping on her during a private and intimate moment. Like she's dancing in a mirror and the reflection on the other side is him.

She's naked beneath the hoody today, absolutely no bra.

Her perky full breast and pert nipples are in his line of vision.

Naruto sucks in a breath, letting his eyes slip down the soft plains of her silky body. His fingertips tingled with curiosity.

She continues passing the zipper down, until the bronzed scars of her self-inflicted wounds show. She pauses for just a moment, and the smallest whimper touches her trembling lips. Her body shudders.

That sound has the hairs on his neck standing. It sends wave after wave of immense pleasure from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. The blood starts to rush and with every fiber of his being he tries to resist the animistic urge clawing maddeningly beneath his skin.

He doesn't sleep with people that he doesn't intend to put in the dirt.

He doesn't know what the fuck is going on but he knows that if he doesn't stop it, he was going to wind up balls deep in this crazy bitch, with his hands locked around her delicate throat and his teeth-

"This isn't why I let you in. What they did to you, it doesn't require  _payment. You_  told those girls what they wanted to hear. You got your ass handed to you, but was it necessary to kiss a girl?"

She pauses, hands sliding sheepishly to cup her breast. Her eyes stayed downcast to the ground and it only takes two strides to reach her.

"Necessary. No."

"Why would you kiss her? Do you _love_  her too?" he teased.

Her eyes are still low, her shoulders rigid.

"No. I-I only  _love_  you."

He feels a trickle of humor in that statement but doesn't mull on it for long.

"So why did you put your fat, dirty, lips on her?"

He asks, idly running his fingertips up and down her bare shoulders. Barely grazing her. She shudders under his fingers and it has his dick pulsating deeply, aggravatingly. He keeps at it, feeling the goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips. He's so close that he can feel her hot breath dampening his cotton shirt.

It's taking an obscene amount of will power and strength to not rip her apart and take her right then and there. To give her what she wants, to take what he needs. She wouldn't fight him, in fact, she'd probably just sacrifice herself just to get his dick in her.

Girls weren't usually this eager for sex, but he could tell that Hinata was that one in a million exception. He wonders if this relates to the whole 'rape' situation. Different monsters spur different behavior. Maybe, it's what makes her want him—makes her submit to dominance. Most girls would run away, but she keeps coming back.

"S-so that she could…taste,  _you_."

He froze for a moment, trying to calculate what that could mean.

"She wanted proof." The little psycho added, in an adorably bellish tone—impenitently.

The realization has him in hysterical laughter. Honest laughter that he doesn't have to fake. Lewd humor doesn't impress most people. He's always appreciated the disgustingly sick things the human mouth can pass on in secret.

"Fucking idiot…" he comments, "No wonder they kicked your ass and here I was thinking, you didn't have a backbone. Turns out, you're chock full of fucked up surprises."

He starts to stroke her smooth arms again, painstakingly, it's been quite a while since he's touched such a messy canvas of gashed meat.

Naruto's fingers trace the rough groves of grainy, healing, scars.

He stares out, towards the kitchen. It isn't often that he uses it, the only appliance that ever got any play had been the microwave. He doesn't entertain anyone from work or school, that could only result in complications. Plus, he hated almost everyone he associated with.

"Do you cook or are you just useless in everything?" he asks.

"I cook, s-sometimes for uncle."

"Are you any good?"

"I-I think so." She admits modestly.

"Fuck, I bet you're one of those chicks who can burn water. But I'll tell you what. I'll let you choose what you're going to cook for me, I'll even go all out and hit up the supermarkets for ingredients and shit. Then, you'll tell me all about this beef you and my girlfriend have.  _Everything._  And later, you'll get the punishment you so deserve for disobeying me by creeping up unannounced."

He says this in her ear, smelling a light soapy scent emanating from her warm skin. He doesn't get why Sakura the whore, always accuses Hinata of smelling like a sewer. He assumes this is just the go-to insult when girls couldn't afford to wear expensive fragrances by Bvlgari.

Naruto steps away from her and she begins to grab at her hoody. He tuts and shakes his head, once she looks at him in wide eyed confusion.

"No recipe card on Earth, requires you to wear clothes. Take off the leggings too, I'll pick up something nice for you to wear."


	14. Generous

 

* * *

"Do you have a general idea of what your  _girlfriend_  likes to wear? What she feels comfortable wearing?"

The sales rep inquires fleetingly over her shoulder. He shuffles behind her through isles of; silk negligees, feathery boas and dazzling sequin gowns. Mainstream music plays lightly in the background and women eye him curiously in passing. 

"Here's the thing, Jennifer—yes?"

The woman giggles, probably caught off guard that a customer even bothered to read her nametag.

"Please, call me Jen." 

"Excellent. Jen,  _my girlfriend_ , she's a little self-conscious with her body. Very demure, she sticks to what she knows— _hoody's and leggings_."

_The same fucking pair…_

"Oh, she's into frumpy-chic then?"

"Frumpy, yes. Dunno about the chic part."

The sales rep's heels suddenly stop striking the linoleum. She comes to a complete stop near a rack of denim dangling from hangers. He isn't too concerned about the price, though he still consciously seeks it out the price tag. The jeans are  _$80.89,_  possiblya dollar or two more, with tax.

"These are our hip-hugger jeans, the material accentuates every curve—"

"So, there's no way that she could downplay having an ass." Naruto comments, smirking slyly at the sales woman. The woman shakes her head of brown corkscrew curls, a breathy chuckle slithering from her lips. 

"Exactly. They're comfortable, easy to maintain and the material is just very light and stretchy. It'll kind of give her that legging feel but they're jeans. Skinny jeans."

The woman fiddles with a pair before offering them to the blonde for further inspection. Naruto takes the proffered jeans. Pretending to have an eye for purchasing women's jeans, skimming them with a keen eye and shifting the denim material between his fingers. For a brief moment, he thought about the volume of Hinata's ass in those jeans. She wouldn't be able to hide it under a baggy hoody. It'd be out, on display for his enjoyment.

He knows for a fact that this would become the most expensive thing in Hinata's closet. For some reason, it made him eager—to get back to his house, with all these materialistic treats. He anticipated that she'd likely be overly grateful. A reaction that most women normally made him work for. He could hardly suppress the small jolt of pleasure, knowing that something so insignificant could honestly bring someone to tears.

_Sweet tears.._

"Sir?"

He blinks a few times, keeping up his suave and gregarious persona. He musters up a somewhat genuine smile.

"My apologies, Jen. Do you have these in a four?" He asks, shaking the jeans.

Hinata didn't seem to have a clue about her size in anything so he'd pretty much be determining her size by sight and memory.

Jennifer gapes at him, with an exaggerated gasp.

"So small!" The woman gushed dreamily, "She must be  _super_ petite. I'd kill to fit into a four  _again_."

Naruto's eyes casually skim over Jen's plump physique. The woman had love handles galore and a soft chunky face, cheeks indented with tight dimples. This lady looks like she's been chubby her whole life.

_Yeah fucking right, bitch. Again._

"Uh-hm." he murmurs disinterestedly, peering down—just as his phone vibrates in his palm.

_**HH** -Someone is knocking on the door. What do I…do?_

_**N-**  You're fuckin' naked. You keep quiet and ignore it, they'll get bored and go away._

_**HH-** kk_

_**N-**  Stay away from the windows, no going into my bedroom to diddle the skittle. Don't make me regret this._

_**HH-** I won't…Naruto-kun. promise :)_

_**N-** Good girl._

He programmed his number into her tracfone, under the guise of receiving the ingredients list but really, he needed a way to contact her. Obviously for his own selfish purposes. If he could have her on call to polish his knob, why the hell not?

"Here it is, size four. I could ring it up for you if you'd like."

They swamp jeans and having looked over the width and length of the jeans he's certain that they're the wrong size for Hinata. They'd be  _hugging_  the life out of her. This could result in her having a hernia but he'd worry about that later.

"One more thing, does this place carry any lingerie?"

* * *

_**HH-**  They're still knocking…_

_**N-**  On my way._

* * *

Naruto parks the car and procures the plastic grocery bags and the crisp, fancy, boutique bags. His heartbeat spiked the moment he closed the doors, bags hanging around both his wrists and arms. He feels drunk with nostalgia.

It eerily reminds him of rushing home as a child. Every Friday his family had a game night, where his mother would cook and they'd play board games. Friday's were also the day his art teacher would allow him to take home finished projects from the beginning of the week.

Everything he's ever made, he'd gift to his mother. She always accepted his presents like they were priceless family heirlooms. Every time, she would be moved to tears. She displayed the art behind a glass cabinet like treasures. It always made his chest swell up to see her look somewhat happy, because it isn't often that she was.

Then, one day, his father put an end to it. Pushed his mother into the cabinet and broke it.

Broke her.

Accused her of being, sickly enamored with Naruto.

After that moment, things were never the same. His father would keep them separated at all times, like dogs.

"Is your phone broken?!"

An irritating, snarl of a voice, yanks him from his thoughts. A cold, paralyzing feeling grips his spine and his generous mood starts to deteriorate instantly.

His head snaps up quickly and he spots Sakura the whore on his front porch. One hand on her hip, and her head cocked to the side. Her red lips shimmer beneath the pale sunlight, and she has so much mascara on her face that she resembles a raccoon. An off-white fur coat hangs off one of her bony shoulders and underneath she's wearing a skimpy black dress, which may as well be her second skin.

The blonde strides into the yard and pauses on the first step, staring at the pinkette with raised brows.

"What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." she replies curtly.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "It's my house, sweetheart."

"You're playing hooky?"

Naruto shrugs, "And?"

Sakura rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath, she twirls a wisp of hair and bites her bottom lip.

"After all the mess I put you through, with the whole Hinatard thing. I've been thinking that you deserve a proper apology. Lately, I've been feeling like, we haven't been on the same page. I sort of miss you being wildly inappropriate with me, whiskers. Maybe it's time that I stopped holding back and you stop holding back too. I want to give myself to you, if you'll have all of me."

_Fuck...no...fuck this is, the worse timing._

_She'll want to come in and if she sees Hinata, I wouldn't put it past her to try gauge her eyes out._

"Now?" he asks, his brows furrowed.

"Well, duh, now, I just ditched the wine cellar for this. I thought you'd be more ecstatic to hear that I'm giving you what you want." She smiles deceptively, eyeing the bags he's holding. "Unless you're expecting someone else?"


	15. Watch me Pt. 1

 

* * *

_Shitty. Fucking. Timing._

Naruto exhales a breath of both relief and disappointment. He nudges the door open with the toe of his boot and it swings open, knocking deafeningly against the wall.

"You'll have to excuse this place, been trying to spruce it up a little."

He lied, almost tightlipped. Other than a few cardboard boxes stacked against the hallway wall and discarded articles of clothing draping over the sofa  _(he had been separating clothes to wash)_  the house was as clean as it'd ever be. He doesn't leave much of a mess, considering he was hardly home.

Naruto skims the kitchen both warily and yet, hopeful.  _On the one hand_ , he wants to see the face Hinata would be wearing upon seeing Sakura. If she's as possessive as she was when she rejected Sakura's call from his cell, he knows the reaction wouldn't disappoint. She acts hopeless and feeble but he could tell she had a temper to her, as dormant as it seemed. His little cheap-whore-in-training, has all the potential to be catty.

 _On the other hand,_  he'd be up shits creak without a paddle if he was forced to take matters into his own hands, especially while Hinata was around to witness him doing so. To witness him bring that pretentious bitch down a notch. He'd like to think that Hinata would show him some gratitude for snuffing the whore out but he couldn't be too sure. Maybe that's a stretch.

The kitchen is vacant. A beam of ruddy sunlight streams through the windows above the sink, the windows which are now hoisted up and letting a brisk chill through.

Sakura wrinkles her nose, as she swaggers over the threshold hesitantly, "Smells like a dead hooker in here,  _uugh_."

_Must be smelling yourself bitch._

There was an excessive amount of expensive perfume on her, permeating the air. Heels clack against the floorboard and she's already shimmying out of her fur coat like she owns the place and he's merely a visitor.

"Ya, guilty. Skipped a few wash days, guess the gym clothes and chief coats have been lighting the place up. Everything's out of whack because of this new schedule Teuchi's got us on. We've really been getting worked." He lamented, heaving in a breath, kicking away a discarded tube sock.

A half-truth, as close as he'd dare get to honesty.

A hint of lilac slithers down his nostrils. The smell isn't potent enough to tip Sakura off apparently but it lingers like a fading smoke signal. His tensed sinews thaw out the further he gets into the house, with no signs of his naked guest/stalker/snack/ potential witness.  _Potential accomplice?_

It was touch and go there for a second and he assumed he'd get the pleasure of being forced to take lethal action against Sakura but it turns out, Hinata had picked up on the obvious clues:

The lingering on the porch, while he purposefully jammed the wrong keys into the door to buy himself some time.

The over enunciation of  _Sakura._

He had said the bitch's name more times than he would have liked to, even Sakura showed some signs of annoyance and impatience to get inside. He could see right through the bullshit excuse she had spouted off at him earlier. Sakura was as transparent as glass. He found her very predictable, even though she tries not to be, she just can't help herself.

It's no coincidence that two women are in his house at the same time.

"Still don't get why you put up with that dead-end job, they're entirely too dependent on you and it's not like they're paying you a fortune or anything. It's cutting into  _'us'_ time."

_Ya, god forbid I'm not available 24/7 to shower you in cheesy compliments and get blue balls in return._

He looks towards the living room, another thorough sweep for good measure.

The television is still muted, there's a blonde anchorwoman speaking vitally into a microphone, with a generic backdrop shadowing her. An urgent line of text rolls across the bottom screen, displaying upcoming top stories. It's no surprise that they're running the Menma story again, and even though he thinks Sakura is dumber than a doorknob, he hopes that she ignores the news like she does everything else that didn't pertain to her.

Naruto fakes a chuckle, striding hastily for the kitchen, to the island of countertop. He noisily places the bags on top the black marble, shaking them loose from his wrist.

"By the way, it's so cold in here." She Sakura whines, haphazardly tossing her coat on top the sofa in the living room. Her footfalls are paralyzing, as she trailed around, thumbing through her cell with a bored expression. "D'you mind cranking up the heat?"

_It's what you get for dressing like a fucking thot in winter…_

"Heats up. I'll get the window, forgot to close it on my way out this morning." The blonde comments matter-of-factly, he attempts to hide the boutique bags by strategically assembling the plastic highlighter grocery bags on top of them. The last thing he needed, was an explosive showdown in his kitchen, once Sakura uncovered the lingerie that hadn't been in her size. She'd probably go around campus interrogating the female populous about their cup size.

Tossing the keys on the counter, he rakes his fingers through his mess of hair and stalks around the edge of the counter towards the window. He notices that a wooden cutting board had been placed in front of the microwave. A sharp butchers knife is neatly paired with it but other than that, nothing stuck out as an oddity.

Something, however, didn't sit well with him. He couldn't put his finger on the exact reason why alarms of distress were going off in his head, but he's never been one to ignore it.

Maybe Hinata heard them talking through the door and hauled ass out the window. Which was all sorts of funny, considering he had taken it upon himself to rid her of what appeared to be her favorite outfit. He chucked her clothes over an overpass somewhere and didn't think twice about it.

"You've been awfully busy." The bitch said, like some sort of charges were about to be pressed against him. "Never figured you were the type to cook outside of work, but I guess—you learn something new every day."

Naruto reaches the window, and searches for clues of an exit. He parts the pleated yellow curtains observantly. A shock vibrates down the nape of his neck and he notices the screen is lopsided, though the screws are still lodged through. She couldn't have gone through without removing the screws, which leads him to believe that she might've tried but hadn't been successful.

_She's still here…somewhere._

Languidly, he shrugs a shoulder.

"Ya…" he trails off, unlocking the catch. He braces his hands on top the sill and pulls it down, until it knocks against the stool. "Decided to take a stab at it, could turn out to be my thing."

"So, let me get this straight, you're telling me that your reason for skipping class is…to  _cook_?" Sakura asks incredulously, furrowing a perfectly arched brow. He twists around to catch the whore meddling through the grocery bags with a singular prying finger. She reminds him of a sewer rat, prodding around for a crumb.

"What about you, huh?" he parries, bordering irritation-possibly excelling it. He trudges towards the counter, keeping eyes on the intrusive bony fingers—that attempted to dig past the plastic bags. "Are you really here for any of that stuff you said out there or are you assuming that I'm up to no good.  _Again._ "

Jade eyes flicker up towards him minutely, her fingers pause their snooping and she rolls her eyes at him.

"It's a little  _suspect_ , I called—twice." She grouses, tossing up two fingers to emphasize. "And to add insult to injury, not only did you _ignore_  me but you went to my favorite boutique without me."

_Fuck._

Sakura snatches up the thin handle of one of the boutique bags, holding it aloft with two fingers. Something in his chest feels like it's been impaled with a rod of molten steel. His head swivels with severe annoyance and mild anger. He could see red creeping up at the edges of his vision. He starts caressing the tension of his temples, with a small chuckle of amusement.

He guesses, improv sex with Sasuke and random whores could really come in handy.

"Well?!" The bitch snaps, with a searing gaze. "That particular boutique excels in predominantly female apparel and call it a woman's intuition but something tells me…this isn't for me. You wouldn't have tried to hide it."

Her voice reverberates in the silence that follows.

"Correct, it isn't for you." he admits cryptically, not even sparing Sakura a look. He didn't have to look at her to know that the vein in her forehead was probably protruding, swelling and looking ready to explode.

The tension settles in hot and thick, suffocating. Naruto sheepishlyscratches at the back of his head, hunching over the counter with a sigh of exasperation. He finally looks up to gauge Sakura's reaction and he could get used to this foolish jealousy. The bitch thought she had something to lose but that couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is, she's never truly had him, he's never been committed or exclusively hers for that matter. She's simply a mark, among other marks.

Funnily enough, she has the nerve to look stricken and humiliated—like she wasn't with him to fulfil her own ulterior motives. Everything to Sakura was a popularity contest, including dating him. He was the foreigner in town and all types of bitches had approached him in the early stages—hoping to obtain him like some sort of fucking trophy. Girls these days only wanted to emulate some modern-day hashtag, ' _Relationship goals'._

He's never had it twisted, not for a second. Sakura has been using him, just as much as he's been using her. The only difference is, he'd be the one coming out on top. Six feet above her.

If Sakura was angry, it's only because she doesn't want any of this to reflect badly on her reputation. A reputation which is debatably shitty enough but he's willing to bet, the scandal of her new foreign boyfriend—cheating on her, would probably be bad for her. Since she cared so much about what everyone thought about her.

Sakura shakes her head in disbelief,"Wh-?"

"It's my cousin's." Naruto interjects, lowly, staring the girl in the eye and hoping it came off genuine.

Sakura opens her mouth and the blonde plucks the bag from her fingers. She doesn't bother to fight him, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest.

"Was her birthday a week ago, and it sort of slipped my mind."

It's just his luck that the bag had been the one containing the jeans and not the lingerie. He doesn't know how he would've spun that shit and is relieved he doesn't have to.

He peeks up at Sakura and resolve flashes painfully over her make-up caked face.

"I felt like shit, yanno. You only turn sixteen once and it's not like my family is well off or anything." He goes on, snapping the stapled bag apart and placing it down on the counter. "Anyway, it's not like I know what to buy a teenage girl. I could've asked around but that's not how I roll. So, I know you like shopping in that boutique and your fashion sense is second to none in this town so, I sorta figured I'd start there."

Carefully, he pulls the jeans out of the bag, trying to keep them folded. Sakura looks truly dumbfound, gawking like the dumb bitch that she was. Is she seriously buying this shit? Anyone with an iota of a brain would've probably questioned him about his,  _'family'._  The one he's never mentioned to Sakura. He should get an award for being quick on his feet with endless amounts of bullshit. He could generate lies from his ass.

"Think she'll like these?"

Sakura's eyes flit from him, to the jeans. She seems very unimpressed and speechless, as she cocks her head to the side, eyeing the fabric. She clicks her tongue and glides her fingers over the material with a careless shrug.

"Guess it depends on her tastes, not every girl is the same." She expresses reluctantly, clearing her throat in a dignified manner.

"Ya but, every girl should aspire to look as _sexy_  as you, dress as stylishly as you do." He makes sure his eyes reach across the distance, intense and hooded with lust. It's easy to convey, especially since he enjoyed toying with her emotions.

He couldn't help it, adding salt to that gash of a conscience.

Wanting to model his fake cousin after a selfish snake.  _Yeah fucking right_. Was this really all he had to do to put her at ease?

"Next time," she drawls, reaching across the counter to poke him in the chest with her crimson painted talons. "How about you consult with me before taking such a gamble on something you clearly know nothing about."

"Ah,  _shit,_  really? Am I really that bad?"

Naruto traps her fingers against his chest, balling his fist around her frail fingers. He doesn't break eye contact, and neither does Sakura, a strange blush ignites her cheeks and her lashes flutter.

"It's definitely high-end and name brand, so she'd be a dummy to not cherish them but I could think of a few more brands that would've made your cousin weak in the knees."

A few weeks ago, that would've impressed him. Seeing that she was within his reach of manipulation would get his blood pumping and his creative juices flowing. He'd instantly be trying to tap it, kill it and whatever other innuendo that correlates to deadly sex.

But now, the first thing on his mind, the only thing on his mind was a certain ugly girl. A girl who had been waiting for him all day, a girl who only wanted to serve him—and asked for nothing in return. As crazy and obsessed with him as she was, she isn't as predictable or linear as Sakura. Or most women. Sure, her insanity could be playing a big part in the mystery. The crazy bitch could probably flip the script on him at any moment and he'd probably praise her for being gutsy.

"Oh yeah?" He asks halfheartedly, barely coherent. Sakura starts talking again but her words seep into the back of his mind.

_CCCcccreak_

It's the slightest noise, his heightened hearing picks up on. A creak of the floorboards and his eyes stumble across the culprit.

Down the hall. Wavering like a flame, draped in his lush green track windbreaker—stood Hinata. Something that felt suspiciously like guilt rose up inside of him.

She's staring dead at him, wait, is she fucking scowling? Her delicately thin brows low over those milky way eyes. He can't tell if she's misty eyed or not but his skin starts to overheat, being locked under such an indignant gaze.  _Was the bitch fucking jealous?_  Who the fuck knew she held more emotions than,  _'eternally grateful for the dick'_?

He's humored, that's for sure. 

_You're friggin' killing me smalls…_

"Kiss me."

He's aware that it's Sakura, though he has no idea what's provoking her to want a kiss from him at this particular moment. The plastic bag crinkles under her breast as she hungrily leans across the opposite end of the counter, urging him closer with a fistful of shirt.

He doesn't take his eyes off the girl standing barefoot, less than a few feet away, watching through widening eyes.

Sakura's petroleum slathered lips are slick on his, hot as she breathes fervently against him. His lips are out of sync, and he's aware that Sakura would probably start to bitch about the dissonance of their actions.

Why would she come out of hiding? He knows they've discussed that she isn't his type, his standard. She never stood a chance so, he doesn't get why she's just standing there, looking dejected. The way she's looking at him, like he's committed some sort of sin.

He could see her bottom lip quiver and her shoulders jump. His stomach churned watching something painful cut across her face. Her eyes glinted like the facets of a diamond and his eyes slipped close.

Behind his eyelids were no safer.

He could hear the distant tormented cries of his mother, from the basement. Could hear his fathers bed knocking up against his bedroom wall as he laid in the fetal position on his bedroom floor, trying to dig his fingers into his eardrums. A strange woman mewled at the top of her lungs and his father groaned just as loudly, as the cadence continued.

His eyes snap open and slowly, they crawl back to her. She's still there.... _what the hell?_

_It doesn't fucking matter…_

He releases the jeans from his hold and brusquely brackets the whores face between his rough fingers. Silky pink hairs tickle his fingers and he could feel her bones beneath his fingers. A chill climbs his spine. Sakura whimpers, a sound that makes his skin crawl, though his eyes stay on the girl in the background.

As much as he'd like to deny it, he's beginning to develop a sport for this crazy girl. It just sort of snuck on him—like the shitty noodles at Ichiraku's. She's an acquired taste.

In a lot of ways, she reminds him of someone he used to know.

Is it strange to say that he wondered how her dainty little face might fit between his palms? How the swell of her supple lips could feel against his, how that tongue of hers might taste when he stroked it with his own. How her screams might feel when he swallowed them and memorized them. Her moans, her timid fingers—so child-like against his steely body. How her tight little pussy might swallow him up with just the right amount of pressure.

One part of him might drown in those hopelessly submissive eyes of hers, the other part might drown for an entirely different reason. He was impossibly hard, just thinking about the girl, even as she looked on in horror. Unmoving. Petrified or pissed. He has never seen her as the latter.

What he couldn't do, was stop what he was doing with Sakura. So he pretty much hoped that the Hoody got sick of watching them make out and scrammed. Then again, some part of him wanted her to keep watching, if only to have something to focus on while he went through the motions with Sakura.

What is it about her?

Like an itch he just needs to scratch but she's just out of reach of the plan. For him to engage in that sort of curiosity would mean that he had to drop everything. Would this girl even be worth that sort of deviation? He's come a long way to get to where he is. There are some things he just can't come back from. 

_But still…_

He wanted to know how she'd react to him; kissing her, touching her, pummeling every orifice of her body until he was spewing out of her, like a fountain. Marking her, trailing his tongue over her marred skin, making more cuts, tasting her warm coppery blood.

He feels heady with wild desire, imagining her fragile body writhing beneath his.

His erection strains painfully against his zipper.

He tries to blink away the hazy images of the ugly girl taking his cock.

 _No_.

Unceremoniously, he reaches over and drags Sakura by the hips over the counter. The material of the skimpy dress bunches up in his fists. Groceries plummet to the ground but neither of them are phased. He breaks the kiss, only to lift Sakura from the counter by her bare thighs, keeping her turned in the opposite direction of Hinata.

Sakura seems far gone, more than usual, like she may just actually give him the goods this time. Her lips descend back on him, her five-fingered-forehead brushing against the hair matted over his forehead. Her fingers slip over his shoulders and she laughs kittenishly against his lips.

"I can't believe, I thought you'd choose some dirty bitch over me. Imagine me, being jelly over an autistic bit-"

He snaps at her bottom lip, drawing blood. Whether of his own volition or a reaction to her statement he doesn't know, he doesn't care. The taste of copper invades his mouth and he hungrily laps at Sakura's lip.

The pinkette gasps, it surprises him that she isn't completely turned off, "Gentle, whiskers—we have all night."

"Sorry." He utters unsympathetically, blindly walking her around the edge of the counter. He straps a solid arm around the small of her back, easily holding her still, while quickly working his fingers under the frilly fabric of her damp throngs. The material brushed his knuckles and Sakura shuddered and tossed her head back with a moan of fulfillment. He couldn't exactly work his fingers like he desired—because of the angle, but he could feel the thin blossomy folds of her pussy. Wet and hot as he flickered her bud gently.

Quickly, Sakura swoops back down on him and takes his lips in a desperate kiss.

Sakura's aroma nauseates him. It clouds his mind, brings a persistent throbbing to his head. He sucks on her contaminated bottom lip and resists the urge to bite down until more blood gushes out. Sakura was making all sorts of lewd noises  _(probably thinking she was sexy or something),_ trying to dig her daggerous nails through his shirt and moaning into his mouth.

Ever so slightly, he tries to maneuver them, so that he could locate his  _bunny_. He was just going through the motions with Sakura and eventually he'd go flaccid if she kept trying to sound like a generic porn star.

He finds the spot where Hinata had been previously standing and he's almost disappointed that she's no longer there.


	16. Keyhole

 

**_**When Naruto is shouting he’s saying, ‘open the door….open the door please.’_ **

* * *

 

He had inadvertently gotten his mother punished and he hated himself. Was he not supposed to help?Was he just supposed to stand by and watch as she slunk down the porcelain walls of the clawfoot tub, deaf to his calls from the other side of the door. The keyhole to the bathroom door was wide enough for him to peek through.

The faucet is still running, heavily. Water spills over the edges, plummeting into a hazardous deluge across the grouting tiles of the bathroom floor. 

He could see his mother’s head sinking lower and lower, the thin cloud of mist surrounding her isn’t thick enough to veil her. Her red hair is piled on top her head and the raw red and purpling bruises marring her face seemed to be all he could focus on.

He’s knocking incessantly, each knock more desperate than the last.

“Kaa-san! Kaa-san!” he hiccoughs, panic jolting through him. “Doa o akeru!... Doa wo akete kudasai!”.

She’s unresponsive, falling lower and lower, looking oddly serene with her decision.

The water strikes the floor like fierce rain and his heart scrambles in his chest. His brain runs in frantic circles and he starts to kick at the unmoving door, screaming and thrusting with great effort against the door.

_Why is she doing this?! Why?!_

He had no choice but to get his father involved, he couldn’t do it by himself. His arms were too small, and his body strength--non existent. 

As much as he detested the very idea, he needs him. The child pivots around and rips down the hall of his home—almost stumbling over his own socked feet.

He can hear his father chuckling upstairs, oblivious to the chaos currently occurring on the first floor. The pale morning sunlight grazed his stinging eyes and pinched at his nerves. Tears trekked down his cheek as he took the stairs two at a time and fell against his parents’ bedroom door.

A woman’s husk chuckle, followed by a few strange noises gave him pause. He could hear his father groaning low in his throat, whispering deep praises as a lewd popping sound seeped through the door. The hairs on his neck stood erect and fear paralyzed him for a moment. 

It’s always been a rule in their household to knock, then announce oneself and await the occupant to grant permission for entry. However, given the critical circumstances he didn’t have much time to abide by such formalities.

Resolutely, he twists the knob and barges in.

A woman screams hysterically. Everything seems to happen much too quickly for his brain to process. He can see that both the woman, who he has come to know fondly as his home school teacher—Kaguya Ōtsutsuki and his father were both stark naked and bathing in sweat and flushed skin.

Kaguya immediately scrambles to hide her nudity with some polyester sheets, her eyes are wide and shining with immense embarrassment, so much so that she lowers her head while she attempts to fashion a makeshift dress with the sheets.

His father isn’t quite as modest, nor shameful, although he does toss an arm back to procure a pillow, to hide his swelling genitals.

The adults may think that he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and to a certain degree he probably doesn’t—but he knows something isn’t right. He knows things shouldn’t be this way. Mrs. Kaguya shouldn’t be in his parent’s bed, and his mothe—his mother!

“Son,” his father begins in a scarily reserved tone, which doesn’t add up to the  stony look he sets on him, “Do we have to have that talk ag—“

“Kaa—san! Sshe—she’s in the tub, she’s drowning! Door locked, I—I can’t open it!” he babbled, biting his tongue in the process. 

His father doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t move, his face never betrays a single emotion.

“Oh my  _god_.” Mrs. Kaguya buries her face between her ghoulishly long, pale, fingers. “This is all my fault, we must've been too lou-”

“No. Don’t beat yourself up, this is how she always behaves when she doesn’t get her way. My wife is sickly ill. Always putting her life in jeopardy—driving my boy and I up the walls, chasing after her, every time she has an over the top episode. No one is responsible, except me maybe—for not putting her away when I had the chance.”

He knows that his father’s harsh words pertaining to his mother shouldn’t hurt as much but it does. It's nothing that he hasn't already said. But still, it slices through his veins like a flaming jagged knife.

His stomach was turning anxiously, wanting to rush his father. Wanting to get through that door and pull her from the water. His father locates his trousers, exchanging small talk with his (painfully nervous) tutor—who blushed like a tomato and snuck apologetic glances at Naruto.

The child shut out the conversation, fist curled tightly by his side.

_None of it even makes sense!_

Once his father and Kaguya looked decent enough, all three hurried down the stairs—Naruto running ahead. He flinches the moment he feels the rug underneath his feet, sopping wet. The carpet squelches with every footfall and he could hear Kaguya incredulously muttering, ‘oh my god’, as she tip toes across the soaked carpet.

“Should I call paramedics?” Mrs. Kaguya asks, voice saturated with concern.

His father, fishes a key out of his pocket and guides it into the door.

“No, I’ll handle this, get back to the room. I'll be there in a sec.”

Kaguya seems a little put off by the demand, lingering and swallowing audibly. Her mouth opens like she’d object but she only nods tersely, her eyes flicker towards Naruto and he quickly adverts his gaze.

“Ok, I-I hope she’s ok.”

Are her last words, before she walks briskly down the hall, cutting the corner and mounting the creaking steps. 

His father seems to move with an urgency now, pushing through the door, feet making ripples in the tepid waters that flood the tiles.

Naruto starts to follow but a hand lashes out abruptly and sends him toppling over, knocking all the air from his lungs. His small body plops flat against the rug and his head spins. The soaked rug makes him feel like he’s sinking through a sponge. Something sick lodges itself in his throat and it only expands, as his chest heaves in great discomfort, trying to get the air circulating through his lungs again. His chest feels rung dry and angrily, he scrubs at his wet eyes with a wrist. 

“To your room.” His father orders, stonily, “You and your damn mother are always embarrassing the shit out of me. I ought to keep you both confined to the kennels in the basement when I have company, since you’re both acting so fucking uncivilized. Running around this place like it’s a fucking circus.”

His chest feels impossibly tight, vision blurring at the edges as he watches his father sit on the edge of the tub. He submerges an arm beneath the water and retrieves his mother with practiced ease. She’s whiter than a sheet of paper, the dramatic change in her skin tone only accentuates the bruises. 

Sitting there, watching his father pull his mother out of the tub and perform medical maneuvers on her dormant body—he was on a verge of his very own break down.

He hated his father, for taking so long to help him--help his mother. He hated himself, for not having the strength to get through the door.

Eventually his father’s repetitive actions of pumping her chest and locking lips with her, revived his mother. She woke with a gasp, choking up sudsy fluid, wet coughs filled the bathroom.

Her small frame shook, red hair dark and damp, water spills down her crown and traces the outline of her face. Her eyes were wide as she moved, disorient and heavy with exhaustion.

His father stood over her, looking down without a shred of sympathy.

Naked and spotted with bruises and horizonal marks across her inner elbow, his mothers eyes came to rest on him with warily. Recognition washes over her features and her lips tremble.

“B-baby I-I’m so—I’m so sorry.” She cries out shamefully. 

“Don’t lie to him, you’re an embarrassment as a mother, even more inefficient as a wife. The crazy part is, you expect him to think that you give a shit. Sorry isn’t a very compelling argument, not after you tried to off yourself again. You’re not sorry, people who are sorry know when to quit. Not you,  _wife_. You just keep being a disappointment, one of these day’s—I won’t be here to save you.”

Naruto’s chest feels raw and knotted, like someone hammered a nail straight through it. His mother only lowers her head and whimpers.

His father takes a deep breath, yawning towards the ceiling.

“Naruto, your room--I won't repeat myself again. I need to have a discussion with your mother.”


	17. Watch Me pt.2

 

* * *

"Maybe, this is a bad idea…"

Sakura murmurs in a shallow breath, clawing at Naruto's shirt for purchase.

He knew it was only a matter of time before she started to protest, he just hadn't been expecting it to be this _soon_. They were both still wearing way too many clothes. The bedsheets were still cold and neat.

" _Ah_ , but you said…"he trails off in a murmur against her strained neck. Tenderly (as best he can) trailing kisses down a column of her fragrant throat. He can taste the bitter toxin on his lips, feel it tingling at the tip of his tongue.

"I know, what I said." She insists, with a sigh. "A-and maybe I was—I was just, way in over my head."

A chuckle—much too bubbly to be genuine, comes from her lips. He can feel her writhing beneath him, like a worm melting on top scorching hot pavement. The bed dips with her efforts to root her feet into the mattress to gain some sort of leverage.

_Oh no you don't bitch…_

He lowers himself onto his elbows, the crushing weight of his body against her. Slowly, with precision, he urges his hips forward, wanting her to feel how painfully inflated he is. Of course, it's no thanks to her but she'll think it was.

"C'mon, don't be that way, you know I'll take _good_ care of you. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I've wanted this—to feel how warm your insides are. Let me show you, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Naruto pleas in a low but tranquil whisper, crystalline eyes lazily staring down at the woman below him.

He hates how flawlessly he executes the line, like some poor love-sick bastard. Seriously, he almost pities himself in the heat of the moment.

Sakura's glossy lashes flicker a tad dramatically and she licks her lips, she bites down on her bottom lip—worrying it with her teeth.

"It's not that I'm afraid or anything, it's just—I was hoping that I could be in charge."

Sakura pouts and gasps when Naruto interlocks their fingers and pins it over her head, he finds the other hand and does the same.

"You _are_ in charge, you're armed with a safe word." He reminds her, a smug grin ghosting his lips. Sakura gives him a blank stare before rolling her eyes.

"Not what I meant, moron. I _mean_ —I want to be on top, setting the tempo."

He almost reared his head back and laughed manically at such a thought. Sakura, setting the tempo? Any girl setting his tempo? Things would never work if he left it up to the women to ride him. Most girls tend to burn out much too quickly. Selfishly reaching their limits and trying to get off the ride before he was ready to stop. And from the looks of things, he'd deflate with Sakura trying to keep prim and proper while riding his dick.

She sucked him off conservatively so why wouldn't she ride his dick just as lackadaisically.

"Next round, I'm all yours gorgeous."

He crosses her wrists together, pinning them with one hand above her head. He's on his knees between her legs, peeling the hem of her dress up, high, until he can see her glistening thin folds. The seat of her thongs had been previously pulled aside, after their uncoordinated tussle from the kitchen to the bedroom.

He took in a breath reached a hand between them, he located her cunt easily, experimentally running his index knuckle down the length of her wet gash. Like he was affectionately rewarding a pet, instead of stroking someone's cunt. His primal urges were breathing down his neck but as he relished the false sense of security on his victim's face, he mustered up the strength to remain in control.

"Umhpf!"

Sakura moans, body lurching slightly. Her head and shoulders presses back into the mattress and a sigh-like moan fills the quiet house.

Her folds resemble thinly sliced roast beef. She's neat, though he would have always suspected her pussy to be completely ran through. She's bare and small. He wonders if the interior matches the exterior.

"Feels good?" he asks, more so for his own benefit—he'd hate to go through all of the trouble of getting her wet, only to hear more protests.

"So good…gods…" she susurrates after a whopping two minutes of incoherent whimpers. She starts rocking her hips overzealously, her skin-tight dress slowly riding up her hips.

There's a very scarce amount of light in his bedroom. Because, he often worries about the neighbors peering through his blinds when he isn't home. He tacked a black bedsheet over the only window the room had to offer.

Thankfully the room isn't very spacious, therefore he didn't have to come up with things to stock it with. Aside from the bed, the only other piece of furniture had been the coffee table in the center of the room. The table was helpful, for when he had an essay due or he wanted to eat in his bedroom. The table was also a curse, as every morning could attest to him banging his shin across it.

He doesn't know how the thing isn't a pile of jagged glass by now.

You'd think he'd be over the moon about diving into quality pussy, the standard of good pussy. Sakura isn't an _ugly_ girl—not on the outside at least. Tons of men were vying for the opportunity to do what he now did.

Sakura's taut fair skin held no blemishes. No childhood bruises with a story, no roughened skin from labor or work. She's had a good life, a sheltered one.

He leans over her and presses a firm middle finger against her swollen clit. The pressure has Sakura's mouth opening with a sharp intake of breath. She raises her hips, just slightly off the bed—and then crashes back down.

" _Naru….toohmygod_." She breaths out—barely audible, tossing her head from side to side, wisps of pink hair slant across her face obscuring her eyes. Her body convulses and she starts writhing violently, legs trembling. He squeezes her wrist, with a fraction of his strength and she hisses.

"Ouch…too rough." She complains. He could feel her trying to yank her wrist free but he only squeezed tighter around her bony wrists.

A sly smirk spreads across his lips.

_You have no idea._

He starts flickering his finger over her clit, whilst maintaining a firm hand over both her interlocked wrists. He leans back, just until he's looming over her drying cunt. Saliva dribbles from his lips. It hits its mark and surreptitiously he works it in. The lewd wet noises that follow make him shutter with dark, mind numbing, excitement, as he slowly slides two drenched fingers down her slit. He presses more persistently, until his fingers are sucked into an orifice. Crooking both fingers, he starts diligently pumping them inside of her.

It's hot and contracting. And while he may have found Sakura boring these days, the idea that her cunt still functioned moderately well (despite the stories) kept his cock at half-mast.

Sakura's moaning intensifies, to a sort of unusual flutter and exploding breaths. Her hips undulate against him as she moans out something unintelligible. Her eyes are wrenched shut and her dress is now midway up her torso.

It slipped his mind, to wonder where his naughty houseguest had gone. He could only assume that the hoody had gone full berserk and run home.

He was glad that she hadn't stuck around. If things were to get messy, he would always choose himself—even if he had grown a _little_ fond of her lately. It was nothing more than displaced infatuation, possibly even _guilt_. Hinata was a broken girl, not by his design, she's someone else's victim—therefore she could never truly be his.

 _His_ girls were in the dirt. Absolved of their crimes, the ones they had long forgotten but he wouldn't. He couldn't.

Hinata was simply a distraction to quell his destructive hedonistic urges. At least it started that way, he doesn't know when it changed-or if it even has.

They were complicated.

Maybe this town had really dulled his sharp-witted senses. He would never gun for an _ugly_ like her but the masochist in her provoked the sadist in him.

"Kiss me Whiskers…gently..." Sakura orders around heavy breathing. Her kiss swollen lips perk up beneath the thin silky strands of hairs over her face.

He leans over, still holding her wrists captive over her head and gently strokes her lips with his, trying to fight the growing impulse to wring her neck. Squeeze until she's coughing fitfully into his mouth, until she's using every ounce of her will power to fight him off, until sh-

He could sense the proximity of someone else just before he felt the chilling contact.

His skin prickles with mild nervousness, something uneasy seeps into his bones.

Cold fingers slither along the back of his, over his knuckles. He keeps his lips moving, so as to not alarm Sakura.

But that doesn't seem to work.

It doesn't take him long to realize what is amiss this time.

He looks up at the hoodie and she has one hand over the hand locking Sakura into place. The other hand however, is wound tightly around a familiar Oakwood knife handle. The silvery initials _K.U_ shimmer at the hilt.

One of the only two knives he owned in the house. Normally both butcher knives sat on top the cutting board.

Shit.

_That's what felt off earlier…_

He freezes all motion. Keeping eye contact with the crazy bitch in front of him.

_What the fuck?_

Hinata held up the glinting knife with a kind of detached look. Her eyes were dry of tears and replaced by something absolutely bone chilling— _scarily composed anger._

"Naruto?" Sakura begins, trying to shift around to see what had been happening. "What the hell are you looki- _WHAT THE FUCK_!"

_Guess the cats out of the bag._

For his own safety, he releases Sakura's wrists. He holds up his hands in faux surrender and keeps his eyes on the girl holding his mother's favorite knife.

Raw electric energy seemed to surge through his bloodstream, waiting.

_What do we have here..._

"What in fucks name is this ugly bitch doing here?" Sakura's brows decline sharply over her eyes and her face at least seven shades redder. "How the hell did she g-g-get i-in, how does she even know where you live?!"

Sakura starts to sit up but to his utter surprise, the hoody points the tip of the knife at her face as she creeps around to the middle of the bed, laughing.

Has he ever heard her laugh?

It's very bubbly, natural, like it doesn't happen often but when it does—its unforgettable.

Sakura swallowed several times, eyes wide with obvious fear as she takes in the knife that's less than an inch away from impaling her eyeball.

"H-h-hin—ata."

Sakura's breathing hard through her nose, eyes fearfully zeroing on the knife as her shoulders stiffened.

" _Hinata_ ," the hoody mimics, obviously relishing this critical moment and all of the astonishment. Her eyes are shining, as big as saucers and stripped of their usual paranoia. "I'm surprised you still remember _my real_  name."

Who the fuck is this?He wants to know, remaining on his knees in the bed. He tries to ignore the fact that Sakura's dress is still hiked up and his dick had been thrumming up a storm. The blood rushed through his ears and his heart fiercely knocked in his chest as he watched the scene in front of him.

Hinata's wrists shift ever so slightly and the blade tilts sideways, she  remains inhumanly still. Sakura's skin seems to go ghost white, the look on her face is a cross between fury and terror. 

"H-h-hinat-"

"Shut. Up."

Sakura's eyes grew so wide, Naruto thought they'd comically pop out and dangle from their sockets. She looked over at him, evidently outraged.

"Aren't you going to call the cops!?"

Two sets of eyes stare at him and he sighed.

"Let's hear her out."

Sakura gawks.

"What? Are you fucking retarded? This bitch is threatening me with a knife. The last thing she needs is to be, _heard out_! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!"

"You're wasting your precious energy." Hinata states very smoothly, drawing circles in the air with the tip of the knife. "He's not going to save you."

"If anything happens to me, people will start looking! This won't end well for _you_!" Sakura snarled at Hinata. The brunette girl only grants Sakura a champagne smile, cocking her head to the side like a confused pup.

"Oh ya?" Hinata mocks her, blinking owlishly. The beanie that had been on her head is still positioned on top of it but more hair cascades over her shoulders, over his windbreaker jacket. "How would they know where to start digging for your _corpse_?"

_Damn._

She looked so small standing there. Obviously, out of reach of his manipulation, he could tell. Had he even been manipulating her? Was that all a fucking act? It was pretty fucking convincing. In fact, so convincing that he started to actually feel sorry for her. It boggles him, that someone could so easily infiltrate the inner workings of his mind. She gave him control and he just ran with it, no questions asked.

Like a fucking fool.

He's conflicted on how he should feel—if he should feel anything at all.

A strange sensation courses down his spine. This fucking bitch had bitten the hand that fed her. Played on his weakness and used him. This was real, this was happening…and happening to him of all people. He had given her the time of day and this was the result.

It's like he's woken up in some parallel universe.

"You're going to fucking rot in prison if you even so much as pluck a hair from my head, you dingy bitch!"

Sakura's swallows are visible, bobbing down her throat. She blinks profusely, sweat beading along her hairline.

"Oh, am I? Are you going to get _daddy_ to keep me quiet—like he's doing to _Lee_?"

"What's she talking about?" Naruto intervenes coolly, staring down at Sakura.

Sakura ignores him, staring contemptuously at Hinata, like she's praying that the brunette would spontaneously combust.

"Hinata…you might want to reconsider what you're about to say, if I make it out of here—you won't have a pot to fucking piss in!"

Hinata laughs, loud, exuberant. Free as a bird, like an entirely different individual.

He's rendered speechless, watching this woman—toying with Sakura like an absolute huntress.

Hinata hunches over, lazily brandishing the knife in Sakura's face.

"Last I checked, I'm the one with the _knife_ and we both know I _hate_ you. I'm crazy—insane, right? The whole town thinks so because of _you_. If I accidentally, say, _slipped up_!" Hinata abruptly slashes the knife so swiftly it _'whooshes'_ , sending off a gust of wind and Sakura lept up. Hysterically, she scrambles backward on the bed, to a safe distance. "Who could fault someone that's out of their ever loving mind?"

Had this been how his victims felt? On the edge. Wondering how they had found themselves in such a shitty predicament?

He almost started to laugh uncontrollably then but kept his throat tight, interested in how this would all play out.

Hinata was really something…he'd give her that.

"You're a sick bitch!"

Hinata stares at her for a long moment, with wide empty eyes before she starts pacing, the knife still trained on Sakura.

"You're one to talk. You _ruined_ my life, the both of you."

It's a loaded accusation, filled with a palpable sense of immense pain and even after it's said, it's heavy over him.

Eerily, he could hear the other Hinata, very timidly, saying those same lines. 

"I didn-"

"You held me _down_." Hinata seeths, her lips trembling, but no tears shone in her eyes. "You let _him_ , do things to me and all because you didn't want people to know—that we were making out that night before he came in and crashed your experience. You looked so sick, so disgusted with yourself because you were caught. But foolish me, thinking I was your _friend_. You just offered me up to h-him to save your own skin."

Sakura looked mortified, looking over her shoulder at Naruto—there were real tears in her eyes and her lashes were clumped together.

"Y-you can't possibly believe her?! She'll say anything, that's what she doe-!"

Hinata swipes the knife through the air to gain Sakura' attention.

"Shut! Up!"

The information is too much to digest and while he's still trying to sort out this mess and identify if any of it is real or not, Hinata calls to him.

" _Naruto-Kun_. How about that story?"

It's strange, hearing the name come out so easily—without all the theatrics that were usually tethered to it.

She seemed so much more put together, though still, oddly _fucked._ Somehow, someway—this infuriated him and cold anger coiled itself tightly in his chest.

"I know you're upset, _Naruto-kun_." Hinata adds, still pasting, relaxed in nothing but his windbreaker. "And so was I, you know? Finding out who _you really_ are—what you're up to here. Our paths were bound to _conjoin_."

The mental bitch smiles wryly, brushing at her nose with the overlapping sleeves of the jacket.

Sakura shoots him a miffed look but otherwise keeps her mouth shut. Naruto stares at Hinata, the new Hinata that doesn't make herself small because she's self-conscious under his gaze. The new Hinata that threatens to kill his victims before he does. The new Hinata who threatened to put out his identity, without breaking into a fit of tears.

_Could she possibly know?_

What does it matter?

He could kill two birds with one stone, if that's what it takes to avoid detection. He could flee the town before the weekend and start on the next mark.

He could surrender to his demons, right here and now. Lord knows, he's been holding back.

"Can't trust all of the hype in the media." He replies, staring at her, unblinkingly.

"That's the thing, _Naruto-kun,_ I don't watch the news, it isn't good for my depression but I do enjoy a good book." She pauses, reaches down—still aiming the knife—and recoils with a familiar book decorated in doilies. It's a journal, with the initials, _K.U_ stamped in the center. "Non-fiction?"

A low growl comes up in his throat and he assumed this is the desired reaction because Hinata smiles. She hides her grinning lips behind the hardcover journal.

"I'll tell you my secrets, if you tell me yours… _Menma-kun._ "

* * *

**A/N: More questions will be answered in the next chapter. We'll see Kakashi again and someone will be very very dead, very very soon. We appreciate all of the love, the messages and the reviews. You're all so great and we don't deserve ya.**


	18. End

 

* * *

He woke up. Disoriented and feeling his temples jump beneath his skin, throbbing.  _What the heck…. happened?_ The last thing he remembered had been the hoody addressing him as  _Menma_. Faster than light, he remembered charging at her, intending to secure the knife, wholly unprepared for the bitch to be so nimble and suddenly armed with a heavier fucking book.

He could only assume she clocked him and from the feeling of it, more than once. Groggily, he sits up on the bed with a grunt, already gathering the strength to rush her again. He wouldn't fuck it up this time. He starts to move one arm and realizes that it's trapped, at the headboard, bound by shoe strings that are coiled around him like lethal leeches.

_Shit..._

"I hope this was all worth it, once you're behind bars!"

"You're just—if not more— _delusional_  than I thought you were. Like I'd be intimidated by the empty threats of a  _dead_  girl."

Hinata smirks in Naruto's direction, from her stoop near Sakura. She binds the her wrist, to the piping at the foot of the bed. She vigorously wraps the slack of the shoelace around Sakura's bony wrists, only stopping short to knot it with finality. Granting Sakura no mobility to even struggle against her restraints. He was sure the shoelace would grate her bones if she even tried.

"Ouch! You fucking lunatic, it's cutting off my circulation!" Sakura yelled but it was clear as day to him, that the treatment was getting to her, wearing her down. Her lips quivered and her eyes were glossed with fear. He could smell it, radiating from her flesh. A sort of familiar hopelessness, though she continued to valiantly pretend that this was all just a temporary setback. The bitch had even accused him of being in on it, though they were both in captivity, on two different ends of the bed.

"That's the idea _, so—ya,_  get comfy." Hinata coos against Sakura's cheek. She braces one hand on her knee and the other procures the knife handle beside her. The blade drags and scrapes against the floorboard as she stands upright, teetering a fraction, before gaining her balance with both arms held out. Like a ballet dancer, awaiting a score to play.

Her eyes glimmer with unvoiced malice, arms snapped back to her sides. Hinata's gaze flits from Naruto to Sakura and then back again, like she just can't decide who to go in on first.

"I'm sure you're both full of questions. I've got time and  _apparently_ , so do you. I'm all ears, since we're a little ahead of schedule." Hinata comments, delving into the windbreaker pocket with her knife-less hand. She withdraws a cellphone and grimaces after a few swipes. "scratch that, we're _way_  ahead of schedule."

Her method to detain them was quite textbook—entry level kidnapping shit. He would even go as far as to say; the psycho bitch had been biting off his style with the shoelaces. Implementing his own punishment tactics against him. He seriously couldn't make any of this shit up.

"Here's a question, do you seriously think you're going to get away with this? You're never going to see the light of day, d'you know that?" Sakura spat venomously. Spittle sprinkling from her mouth as she clenched at her bound wrist, uselessly trying to ease, what he assumed, had been the severe palpitations from the lack of blood flow. In his experience, he knew it'd only get worse. The shoelace was likely tight enough to occlude arteries, the skin that hadn't been clenched in shoelace had already began purpling.

"And you!" Sakura continues on her tirade, snapping her neck in his direction. "You fucking lying ass bastard! This whole time, you were messing around with  _her,_  y-y-you were  _cheating_ on  _me_ and trying to make me sound crazy. And now look where we are?! You really do just stick in anything with a hole."

Naruto doesn't react, slouching against the wall and twisting his bound wrist. His skin feels raw but the pain doesn't seem to register, not like it should anyway. It's irritating but not unbearable. His chest feels cold, strained and tensed—almost heavy and at this point he would be lying, if he said that he understood it.

"We never had sex." Hinata comments, sliding her arms behind her back, "he has  _standards,_ " she mouthed staring pointedly at Sakura, something seemed to be silently implied between the two. Hinata uses the tip of the knife to smoothly toss the hair draping over her shoulder back. "though I'm certain if I had held out, just a while longer—it would've undoubtedly been the next step."

She's bragging in that bellish voice of hers, gentle but the confidence is downright alarming and mocking. He couldn't seem to look away from her regardless. He was unaccustomed to such a broad range of emotions, everything coming at him all at once. One thing in particular, seemed disconcerting.

Anger is relatively an easy one to regulate, if he had someone or something to take it out on. Annoyance—containable. But the current feeling, it's hard to narrow down, even harder to diagnose himself with.

It's unnerving and it's cold to the bone but it's hot in his chest, like the breath of hell.

Scenarios flipped through his head, gaining speed. How could he rectify the situation?

This could go either one of two ways.

If he could free himself from his binds, he could overpower both women. He could lure them towards the basement and give them both a nice little shove, letting the concrete steps disable their limbs for him. The plunge wouldn't be life threatening but they sure as hell wouldn't be getting away anytime soon. From there he could decide who to waste first.

_No fuss, no muss._

Or, he could try his hand at wrestling the knife from the psychotic bitch again. With so many failed attempts at taking her own life, written all over her body, he doubted that she had it in her to kill another human being. He wouldn't allow himself to find out if she had the balls to do it or not.

He's more dexterous in combat and he's betting that Hinata has never tussled with a soul. The first round was dumb luck. He had gone in without thought, overruled by pure animal instinct.

To implement either plan, he needed to weasel his way into the psycho's head again—if he had ever been in there to begin with.

_Things couldn't have changed that much._

"Hinata," Naruto calls, breaking her out of her one-sided conversation with Sakura. "Untie me, ok?"

The brunette's brows raised and slowly, she shook her head.

"We can talk, I promise." he stresses, in a calming low. " No punishments, no tricks—we can discuss what we're going to do with  _her_."

He says tiredly, nudging his head in Sakura's direction. Sakura's face is flush red and she opens her mouth—like she's about to unleash a blood curdling scream but her lips snap shut and she continues to stare daggers at him.

The incredulity on Hinata's face is off the charts, as she shakes her head once more.

"I'm not an idiot  _Menma-kun_."

A little nerve jumped in Naruto's jaw and something sharp poked holes through his brain.

"Don't fucking call me that!"

For just that moment, he lost his temper, it slipped. His heartbeat spiked and the blood was surging to his head, making his veins bulge and his eyes dilate.

_Calm down. Calm. Down._

_Let's not lose our heads. It's just a fucking name, it doesn't mean anything. She's messing with you. She trespassed into your home, read your mothers memoirs and she knows the truth. Has probably known for quite some time._

_This isn't going to work if she doesn't believe you. It isn't going to work if you don't believe you._

It catches him off guard, the boisterous laughter bubbling from his chest, relieving none of the impenetrable tension constructed there.

" _Ugly_ ," he tries again, between hiccups of laughter. "You're breaking my heart," he claims placing his free hand just above a rib. "You seem to have me all figured out. You've done your homework, fuckin' weeks of it. And now, you're telling me, none of that shit was even remotely real?"

"Oh my god, is this really fucking happening right now?!" Sakura starts to whine. Hinata promptly silences the pinkette with a discarded tube sock off the ground. Cramming it past the whores lips .

"MMmmh-mmmmh!"

He would have gotten a kick out of that, had the tables not been turned on him.

Hinata comes just close enough to evade the reach of his free hand. Smart girl. They share a heated stare and then she blinks once—twice and shrugs a shoulder.

"I find you  _repulsive_."

" _Ha_ ," He scoffed, taken aback. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting _. In fact—nowhere fucking near it._

Ok, so that gutted him more than he expected.  _What the fuck is this bitch on?_

"You're a misogynistic asshole and a _murderer_."

"With feelings." He interjected. "Just saying."

Hinata swallowed and crossed her arms around her waist, as though she were trying to cover up in front of him for some reason. He could smell the lilac, taste it, feel it seeping through his pores.  _God damn that fucking fragrance._

A tingle ran down his left arm and he shook it off, along with the memories that tried to swirl through his pounding head.

"The only thing between us...is her." She points the knife at Sakura, "without her in the picture, we have nothing else. She brought us together and when she's gone, you'll be  _gone_."

_Shit..._

Naruto uses his free hand to pat at his chest slowly, a sort of slow clap.

"So, this is the real you, huh?" He asks rhetorically, briefly biting his bottom lip. He nods his head in thought. "The real you, she's a  _bitch."_

He could've sworn he saw a dent at the center of her forehead but just as swiftly, it's gone and those exotic lips, he admired so much were quirked up into a cruel smirk. Still, the things looked succulent, even as they spewed blasphemous insults.

"Are you upset?" She asks, a purr. "Should I get on my knees, and  _suck_? Would that please you?"

He opened his mouth to confirm that, yes, that'd soothe him a great deal.

"MMMmmh!"

They look over to see Sakura scowling and choking, her face scarlet red. The bitch looked absolutely miserable. Her hair a nest for flyaway. Naruto had almost forgot her presence entirely. He assumed she would have passed out from the circulation loss by now but she remained as tyrant as ever, as she gagged on his dirty gym sock with dignity.

He sighs.  _Fuck, the fuck am I going to do?_

Not for a second, does he buy that the hoody is  _repulsed_  by him. Even if her actions were fake he never had to coerce her into anything, not really. She was deep throating him from the passenger seat a week ago, and she was doing it like her life depended on swallowing his load.

This was just a front. Some sort of power play, so she could remain in control. She isn't the first girl who has ever tried to pull this stunt on him.

"Just untie me, I'll go easy on you—promise."

Hinata snorts, it's cute and her nose is scrunched up. It honestly gives him heart palpations and he wants to punch himself in the head, until he gets his brain to rewire back to it's basic functions. But then, the snorts and the laughter turn into quiet sobbing and tears, genuine tears. The juicy, pretty, milky tears trek down her cheeks and fall down the contours of her face.

He watches, speechless wondering what the hell had triggered such a reaction. Hinata buries her eyes in the palm of her free hand. Knife tightly in her hold.

"Oh, now you're crying?" Naruto chides, breathlessly, watching her. "First time murder jitters?"

"M not  _murdering_  anyone."

Suddenly she was laughing again, hysterically, removing her hand from her face. Her eyes were shimmering, like crystals. She bit her lip, righteously and he frowned, realizing he had been deceived again.

This bitch knows how to cry on cue and she's just basically tugging at his fucking balls, again. He could feel rage breathing down his neck but swallows it down and stares at her, biting into his inner cheek so hard that blood spurted. He relishes the salty taste flooding his mouth, feeling it trickle along tongue, he licked his lips.

"You're an idiot." Hinata giggles, kittenishly. Catching the tear at the corner of her lip with the tip of her tongue. He watches the sultry movement, her tongue dragging over her lips—lingering.

"And you really are a _liar_  but you had your uses. I care about you."

Whether he meant it or not, it's out there and to take it back would be risking the slim chance that he has.

Hinata crouches down, at a safe distance, in front of him. She crosses her arms on top her knees, careful not to stab herself.

"Prove it."

_Why does that sound so fucking familiar?_

"I will,  _un-fuckin-tie_  me."

_So that I can slit your wrist a little deeper._

"It's not time."

Hinata says cryptically.

"Are you waiting for the planets to align?"

"Our guest of honor hasn't arrived yet."

Naruto furrows a brow at her, eyeing the knife with growing unease.

" _Three_  is a crowd, four—is breaking news. Trust me on this, cancel things with whoever you've got coming. Deal with Sakura first."

She was barefooted, toes painted a neon pink. Her feet were small, delicate. His windbreaker baggy all over her. She looked like a child, a dangerous one, or simply one backed into a corner.

Hinata rocks her chin on top her forearm.

"Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

She pulls out her phone again but now that she's close enough, he realizes that it's similar—if not an exact replica of Sakura's phone. The case is glittery and rose gold. A moment later it dawns on him that this is Sakura's phone and Hinata is texting their special guest from the phone.

Sakura is going berserk, kicking around on the bed. "Mmmmh-mmmh!"

"Don't you want to prove to me, how much you care?"

The treacherous student has surpassed the teacher in cringe worthy manipulation. Though he'll continue to think he had a better delivery.

"Sure. What are you getting at? Who are you killing?"

For the briefest moment, something dark and fearful seemed to cross her face and then just as quickly it vanishes.

"M not killing." She prods the tip of the knife in his direction. " You are. If you will kill for your mom, would you kill for me? After all, it seems like, she's the only person you've ever cared about."

It's funny that she had just given him flack for being a  _"sexist"_  murderer but needed him.

And if he was being honest, he guesses, he enjoys being needed.

_Repulsed by me? Yeah right._


	19. Two Faced

 

* * *

It's late. He can tell by the way the light comes in through the room. The sun is burnt out, a dull orange and red—like the edges of a bruise. Car headlights penetrate the makeshift curtains in his bedroom and he could hear car doors being slammed, horns honking after being triggered by a key fob.

After retching, screaming and bucking around on the bed—Sakura had finally fallen victim to sleep. She lay curled up at the foot of the bed with her bare back towards him and an arm tossed over her face. Occasionally, he could feel her flinching in her sleep, or dreamily murmuring about a knockoff purse.

Today has made it on the list of, _bizarre hindrances_. The list is new. A first of its kind, for there has never been a day that anything like this has ever happened to him. Things have never been this astronomically _fucked_. And as time practically slipped through his fingers, with him confined to a bed by fucking shoelaces—he's under no illusion that he could make up for all the time he's lost.

It's late. The later it gets, the more he realizes how vulnerable he truly is. His daily regimen had come to a screeching halt. The planet may not revolve around him but maintaining the fake life he's built sure as fuck required his attendance and participation. He had already been walking a fine line, and this disappearing act would only set him back—assuming there's something to go back to.

_Go back to._

He chuckles.

_For what?_

He asks himself. He's already been here longer than he should be.

Something flavorsome piqued his senses and he took a deep breath, catching the aroma of something pleasantly crisp permeating the air. An onslaught of knots cramped his stomach, and the intense growls of starvation that followed in the silence were maddening. A literal punch to the gut.

He could hear a faint sizzling, and humming that carried through the house-hauntingly.

_The heck is she doing out there?_

Hinata had vanished a little over forty-five minutes ago, after recruiting him as an executioner. Little did she know, she'd be apart of the body count (maybe). Though he had already had plans for Sakura regardless of the situation. He knew from the jump the whore was a piece of shit but after hearing that she had been an accomplice to Hinata's rape and overall misery, the overwhelming urge to end her had grown significantly greater.

His victims could say a lot of shit about him, but not once had he forced himself on any of those women. Sex was always a mutual agreement, a means to connect and satisfy his amplified sex drive and addiction to the pain of others—and himself at times. Sex is a compulsion, for which he has no cure—not even busting a load can cripple him. The closest thing to sedating him—is tiring himself out and even then, he's riled up again in no time. His hunger intensifies and then the blood lust kicks in.

Sometimes he doesn't enjoy it, he gives himself over to the hunger and loses the compacity to truly feel anything at all. It's like a drug. He just wants to reach that peak and tip over the edge, for that glorious crash and burn. He just wants to cum, just wants to own the last shred of someone and memorize it, refer to it later, when the urge swells back up and he's alone.

In a lot of ways, he knows he's acquired this affliction from his father. The animalistic impulse to dominate and possess a human being—he's always detested those things about his father. The violence he had been exposed to all his life, had somehow manifested itself within (somewhat unconsciously), like a disease. He can't bear to part with it now. It's the very thing that corrupts him, that's kept him hanging on. The very thing that his mother tried so honorably to destroy at its root.

_Dyeing my hair, changing my name..._

He can't help but to think that, had she been alive, she would likely put a bullet through his skull herself.

A shudder passes sharply through his bones.

He's everything she never wanted him to be.

Why should he care?

_You left me…_

Hinata suddenly enters the room, taking careful steps and holding a tray of steaming food. He sits upright, watching her with growing curiosity. The brunette pauses in her track, her eyes widening. She looks at Sakura's sleeping form first and then at Naruto—somewhat accusingly. The blinding fear that shone so clearly in her eyes reminded him of _his bunny_. The silent, suffering, nutcase that worshiped him.

"As much as it pains me to say, she's not _dead_. I'm shoe laced to the bed, remember?" he asks, wiggling his bound wrist.

Relief flooded her features and with caution, she approached him—like an animal tamer would a feral beast. She balanced the tray on her hip and shifted the objects around on his nightstand. Funnily enough there was only a box of Kleenexes and a pump bottle of unscented lotion there. A tinge of pink touched Hinata's cheeks as she swiftly brushed both aside and placed the tray down.

A sly smirk zipped across his lips and he hunched over, examining her backside. A wardrobe changes.

"You found my _gifts_." He says, after further evaluation.

They were definitely accentuating those two firm globes of ass. She was really feeling them out.

She nods, almost shyly, as she snapped the chopsticks apart over the tray. "You knew my size?"

"In theory…"

" _They're_ snug." She replies.

_No kidding._

"Can't tell from this angle." He lies. The hoody tilts her head at him skeptically. She's also wearing the sleeveless ruffled blouse as well. Jennifer, the burly sales rep, had suggest paring the light blue silky top with the jeans. And he figured he should go the whole nine yards, since he had already blown a wad on the jeans and lingerie. Blue was a good color against her light skin. The plunging neckline had been the biggest factor in purchasing the top and it doesn't disappoint.

He doesn't know what gave her the dumb idea of hiding that delicate neck of hers, those prominent collar bones that he can't help but imagine his tongue making a long exploration across, until he reaches that profound dip at the center of her throat and then, he'd have to take a detour.

_Those tits…_

Wordlessly, he held up a finger and rotated it in the air slowly. Hinata swallowed and he almost expected her to give him lip—since she claims to be _repulsed by_ him _._ The fact that she had to touch the wanking station probably solidifies her opinion.

Hinata chooses to obey his silently implied request. She performs an awkward spin, no faster than rotisserie speed. And he's grateful because this would likely be the last _visual_ supper, should his plans go to shit.

The fabric of the jeans stretched nicely across her ass, and he could make out the nice cuffs too.

"Do you like them?"

"Did you buy them for me…or for you?" she parries.

_Ungrateful._

"Both. The jeans are visually pleasing to look at, for me and you get to show off your _ass..._ ets."

He doesn't like how closed off her face is. Before the transparency was easy, visible, he could read her like a manual and tinker with her insides. Things were just more convenient.

A heavy silence settles uncomfortably over them. Hinata gathers a plate in one hand and stares at him.

"I made baked _Tonkatsu_ , there's no use in letting it go to waste and _a deal is a deal_."

_So that's what she was doing this whole time, cooking. Like I asked._

"M-may I feed you?"

An air of befuddlement clogs his lungs and prevents him from answering momentarily. With his free hand he scrubs his fingertips through his hair.

"I could do that myself."

"Uh-ok, I just figured you're left handed so—" she says, inclining her chin towards his bound wrist.

_Shit…_

He gestures her over with two fingers, "C'mon then."

The brunette looks at the spot beside him and then swallows. He could see her neck bobble and her shoulders fall.

"If you try anythin—"

"We're on the same side." He says, very debonair. He doesn't like being chained up like a mutt but if he goes all out to kick Hinata's ass—he'd lose his strength—which he's saving up for whoever the fuck would be coming through that door soon. The last thing he needed was an increase in body count but since things are the way they are—he has no choice but to wing it. He has a track record of leaving no witnesses alive and he intends to keep it.

Besides, Hinata was the least of his worries. Yeah, some irrational, small part of him wanted to physically make her submit _again_ —or simply make her submit for real. Out of spite. He doesn't take betrayal well, especially when he had grown a consciousness and gotten played for it. He could set aside his bruised ego and appreciate this alliance, before he drove a knife through it after killing the other two.

_Just this once._

Hinata still looks dubious of their truce but slinks down beside him. She places the plate on her lap and starts to tweeze at the steamed rice. Naruto watches closely, noticing that she's still wearing that stupid beanie. He thinks of yanking it off but figures he'd probably get stabbed for that abrupt motion. He doesn't know where the fuck she's hiding the knife but he doesn't put it past her to whip it out, to keep him in check.

Lilac mingles with the pungent aroma of food and his stomach curls itself into a stony fist. Hinata holds the steaming rice she's captured between the chopsticks to her lips and blows it very gently. She closes her eyes and his eyes drop to her puckered lips, the up to the gloss of her lashes.

A moment later she's turning in towards him, guiding the rice to his lips. He opens his mouth, leans forward and places his lips around the rice. He tries to avoid eye contact and strictly focus on nourishment but like magnets, their eyes drift towards each other.

He gets trapped in a stare off and neither of them even attempt to look away. He slips his lips off the sticks, chewing the seasoned rice and staring blankly ahead as Hinata retreated to the plate.

"How long has she been out?" Hinata asks him, offering him some sort of flaky bronzed meat. He stares at it and back at her. "It's pork cutlet with a light crusting of panko. It's really tasty _Naruto-kun."_

Naruto takes a bite at the proffered meat, noticing the smug smile on Hinata's face. There's a slight crunch when he digs his teeth in, shuffling the meat to his molars. The pork is succulent, highly flavored, delectable and mouthwatering. Home cook meals were a rarity in his adult life, as a child-it would seem he had taken them for granted.

"Ten or fifteen minutes." He replies, hungrily scarfing down the next bite offered to him.

"Mmhh."

"Who taught you—you know, to throw down like this?"

Hinata brushes the hair from her shoulders and blows on his rice. " _Fffffffff,_ my _papa_ , _fffffffff_."

Naruto gulps down the residue of rice that still lingered in his mouth and closed his mouth around the rice being fed to him. He tried not to think about how often they found themselves trapped in a stare, before one of them quickly adverted their gaze.

His skin tingled and he scratched at the back of his feverish neck.

"That's fucking weird." He replied.

Hinata raised a brow, "And why's that?"

"Men don't typically do this sort of shit. Was your mom a slacker or somethin?"

Several seconds go by, before Hinata answers.

"She died when I was _very_ young, so, the responsibility fell to _papa_ and he's taught me everything I know."

She laments, practically shoving the next slice of meat down his throat. It's funny, that bit of attitude. He's always seen it, even when she had been pretending to be innocent. The rebellion in her eyes, it's always been there, stashed away behind all those crocodile tears.

" _Ah_ , sorry." He said around chewing quickly and trying to keep the scolding hot meat from burning his tongue.

Hinata shrugs, "People die every day. I hardly knew her."

"You want to die too, _right_? Or was that just another gimmick to reel me in?"

Once again, something that suspiciously feels like guilt plagues him.

The hoody feeds him another hot piece of meat, rolling her eyes at him. He assumed after two minutes of stagnant silence, she wouldn't be giving a response. He chooses to take her silence as an answer. Since she seemed so reticent about her personal feeling.

Something that had been niggling at Naruto's mind finally materialized and he held up his hand to stop the psycho from feeding him piping hot slabs of meat.

"How long have you _known_? About Menma?"

Hinata's eyes were cast down, on the plate.

"I have always known—about _Menma._ Papa would watch the news every morning, before dropping me to school. Sometimes, if I had gotten ready quick enough, I'd eat breakfast and watch with him. When the news first broke about the,' _basement lady of Kyoto',_ all anyone could ever talk about was how tragic it was and how they felt sorry for the kid involved. Menma."

He didn't doubt it. Everyone in the orphanage had known his parents names and the scandal around them. People were always whispering things, dispersing when he entered a room. None of the kids approached him-terrified.

"And all these years my _tragic_ life stuck with you? _Heh_ , tell me how fucking _repulsive_ I am again?" Naruto teases.

Hinata chuckled, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, "I wouldn't have said it, if I had known you'd take it _this_ personally."

"How the fuck else am I s'pose to take it?" When he hunches over his knees, the bare skin of his elbow brushes the silkiness of her skin. Hinata idly shuffles the rice around with chopsticks.

"You don't care about me, so, it shouldn't matter what I think." She states, as if she knows this without a shadow of a doubt.

"I don't care?" he asks.

She nods. "The girl that you _think_ you care for, she doesn't exist. She used to…but this place, it killed her. Sometimes I can feel her," there's a dent between her brows, "inside me—in pain, so much pain. I don't like to think of her—it _hurts_. Pretending to be her, with you, at first—it consumed me. I stopped taking my meds, and I just…got a little lost. When I drew the connection between you and _Menma_ , it was the first time I had ever broken into your home. I didn't know who you were but I could feel a part of me wanting to reach out to you—desperately. I only knew one way—to make you reach back, if you thought I knew, you'd show me the real _you_. The first night, I took your moms journal, I devoured it in two days and returned it before you realized it was gone. I felt like I _knew_ you, through her. I wasn't lying when I said I _liked_ you. I still—feel _something_. You did something no one has ever done for me, even if—at the time, you weren't aware of it. The first day in Anatomy, you let me keep my seat. I know, you were probably just trying not to make a big fuss about things but that moment, it's the kindness…."

There's a tremor to her voice, it breaks off and she shudders. Naruto looked up to see her scrubbing at her eyes furiously. Suddenly her shoulders start doing a very familiar thing, rising and falling. She's heavily breathing and having some sort of fucking break down beside him.

_I thought we were over this shit?_

"Hey?"

His hand, as if it's the most natural thing in the world slides across the distance to consolingly grip her thigh.

 _"Don't."_ her voice breaks, hoarsely.

After a moment of sniffles, she curses under her breath angrily and abruptly—she was on her feet too soon, practically running out the door.

He stares after her, suddenly realizing the strain in his chest.

_Something was definitely fucking off…_

One minute he's talking to the _new_ Hinata-the bitch and the next… _his bunny._

It's almost like shuffling a deck of cards at this point.

He doesn't know which level of crazy he's going to get.

* * *

He doesn't know what time it is when Hinata comes back, but she does, come back.

She seems distant.

Her eyes are bloodshot red and she's dressed in nothing but his windbreaker again, the butcher's knife drawn and aimed at Sakura.

Sakura, who is now roused from her catnap and bristling with anger as she attempts to communicate with a signature, _'Mmmh!'_

He seriously doesn't know why the bitch even bothers.

Naruto remains a spectator, lounging back against the wall.

The brunette suddenly starts to unknot Sakura's binds.

"You sure that's a good idea?" He asks her.

"We've been stood up. He isn't coming and I—I can't do this."

Her fingers start to unwind the shoestring, quickly, with wild paranoia.

"What?" he asks in disbelief, brows furrowed, his brain scrambling to maintain a sliver of sanity. _What the hell is happening?_

"I-I can't do this _Naruto-kun_ , I dunno what I-I was thinking. I-I'm letting her go."

Sakura seems to gasp, nodding her head profusely, "MMmh-mhm!"

"What the _heck_ are you talking about?!" he shouts at her. "You can't just _fucking_ let her go, she'll turn us in!"

Absentmindedly he jerked his bound arm. A shock of hot white pain ran sharply from the tips of his fingers and up the length of his arm. Hinata continues undoing the shoe lace, frantically murmuring under her breath. Every inch of her shaking.

"I'm s-s-s-orry Naruto-kun. S-s-somethings wrong. S-s-s-omething!"

He fists at his spiky blonde hair, trying to curb the growing anger threatening to engulf him.

" _Fuck!_ Listen to me, if you let her go, we're going to be in a world of fucking shit! Do you want that?"

Hinata sniffles, pausing for a moment. Her eyes were the hugest he's ever seen them, wide—the floodgates were open and tears streaked her cheeks. How could someone so distraught and broken be so…beautiful and pure and _fucked._

This isn't the time to revert to that version of herself. The useless fucking version. He needed bitch-Hinata, he needed her mastery, her scheming but something was telling him that-she had taken a hike.

"Naruto-kun, ki-killing is wrong."

He almost laughed, almost.

"Hinata, listen to me." He says, leveling with her through a calm stare. "you love me?"

That seems to mitigate the intensity of crazy—but not by much. Her breath has become nothing more than hicks, that resemble spasms.

"I do," Hick. "N-naruto-kun."

For some reason, something feels restored within him but he doesn't ponder on what that could be. He's probably just grateful that he could still get through to this crazy bitch. _His crazy bitch._

He was practically on the edge of the bed.

"You're with me?" he asks, his own voice sounding strange to him.

"With you." Hinata breathes.

"Good girl. Now, tie he-"

Sakura chooses this exact moment to start bouncing off the fucking walls. Sakura left leg thrusts forward, knocking the knife from Hinata's hand. The knife sails across the room and clatters to the floorboard. Hinata rushes after it, nearly toppling over in her mad pursuit to recover it. Meanwhile, Sakura squeals and yanks the sock from her mouth, without missing a beat the pinkette is screaming at the top of her lungs.

"SOMEONE HELP!"

She starts screaming, working at her bonds desperately.

_Fuck!_

The screams were so loud he could hear them reverberating inside of his skull.

"HELP!"

Hinata is finally coming back towards Sakura and he's certain she's still the useless Hinata because she looks scared to death. Shaking like a leaf.

By the time she gets her hands on Sakura, the fucking whore goes for Hinata's head of hair with both hands.

_Fuck, both hands._

There's screaming from both girls, stumbling around and Hinata trying to push Sakura off her—without stabbing her.

He isn't about to stand by and watch. He starts yanking at the string, with his free hand, feeling the friction rub his flesh raw. He wouldn't be surprised if the pink meat started to show.

"Let go you fucking creep!" Sakura roars, breathing harshly.

He's almost out, he's almost free.

He's going to riddle this bitch in holes and fill them all.

Then suddenly, he hears a sharp gasp—it's ear splitting, despite it's decrease in volume. He twists around and spots both women in some type of strange embrace.

Both their eyes are wide and it's an eternity until the motion returns to the room. Hinata's mouth cracks open with a whimper and her eyes slink low. She clinches at Sakura's shoulder and starts to sink to the ground.

"No-no-no!" Sakura starts screaming at the top of her lungs, her entire face frozen in a mask of horror, "H-hinata no…no—I—no."

The earth seems to shake right beneath his feet and though he's nowhere near close to being unknotted, he's tilting away. Tilting from the bed, from his attachment to his fucking arm. He hardly feels the subtle crack of his elbow.

Sakura falls, unable to shoulder the dead weight of Hinata, but attempting to bring her down gently regardless.

His head is full of Hinata gasping for breath and gagging on her own blood. It's suddenly the only sound, for a moment.

" _Fuck, fuck fuck._ I'm didn't mean—I didn't.." Sakura starts apologizing to him, she's stumbling to her feet. Inching towards the door, slick blood staining her fingers.

He doesn't even care that she runs, that she gets away and he knows that he should care.

He's gets down beside Hinata and she's staring up at him with the same kind of hopelessness he's always been sickly drawn to, except now it hits him like a freight train. She thinks she's going to die.

A rivulet of blood running down the corner of her lips as she began to convulse.

He could see the handle of his mother's knife, the blade buried in her chest.

In hindsight, he supposes had he been in the right mindset, he could have rationally performed the necessary steps without getting anyone involved.

Listening to Hinata's rickety breathing, feeling her blood soak warmly through his fingers as he tried to determine the deepness of the puncture.

His nightmares come to life.

"N-n-naruto-ku-"

"Shh—shh,"

He can barely feel his left arm but that doesn't prevent him from using it. He slides one arm just along her buttocks and the other he slips just beneath her spine.

"Deep breath." He coaches scooping her up as mindfully as he could.

Hinata takes a breath and he holders her more securely. He could smell her blood, taste the pungent salt of it prickling the air.

"Naru-" Hinata starts drowsily.

"Don't talk—whatever it is, you can tell me later."

Hinata makes a noise, like laughter but at this point it could be anything since she was practically bleeding out in his arms.

He rips off down the hall, towards the kitchen, quickly locating his cellphone and his keys. Hinata coughs, her body bouncing with his every stride. He doesn't waste his time locking the door.

Once he gets Hinata settled into the back seat, he slides into the drivers seat and shifts through his contacts speedily.

He couldn't just show up in the hospital like this, that'd raise a ton of flags.

Lee's contact comes up and he speed dials.

Lee answers on the second ring.

"Naruto?"

"Lee, this is an emergency. Your neighbor is she home?"

"Which one? There's S-"

Naruto starts the engine, closes the door and yanks the gear back to reverse. He peels out of the driveway, with little regard for anyone who just so happens to be in the vicinity. "The lady doctor, the one who gambles."

"Oh Tsunade, she's not like-legit bro."

"Is she fucking home?!"

"Her car's in the lot. Hey man, is everything ok? You sound strange."

"Hinata was stabbed in the chest."

"What?! _Literally!?_ Why not just call the paramedics?!"

"You're closer, she's already lost a fuck ton of blood. Just fucking get the doctor Lee!"

The other end goes dead for a moment and then he could hear Lee swallow.

"Of course, whatever you need. The door'll be open."

Naruto hangs up, tossing the phone into the empty passenger seat beside him. He scrubs at his jaw with his knuckles and looks into the rear view.

"Hinata?"


	20. Let Go

**A/N: I realize that we left the last chapter on horrible terms. I'm sorry. Nixx is away visiting her sick grandmama and so we are kinda at a stand still until she has the free time. I'm sorry but this shall be the last chapter for awhile. We're assholes, we know. Anyway I hope you enjoy this and I can't wait to finish off the story. Thanks for all the messages(I do read them and I do respond), thanks for the REVIEWS(we adore reading what you're all thinking and it's so funny sometimes) and most importantly thanks for not giving up on us. I know AU's are kind of a gamble but I'm willing to risk it all for the adventure. Thanks. ~Nixx &Yuhikoi. **

* * *

 

“H-holy shit…” Lee looks like he’s on the verge of either barfing on the lawn or passing out. “…ok, s-she’s really bleeding. Is she—is she even alive? Did you check her vitals? Because from where I’m standing…h-holy shit… _holy shit_ , she’s bleeding and it’s everywhere...all over your backseat like—this is—this is real.”

 _No shit Sherlock,_ he thinks—in place of saying it out loud.

“Did you get ahold of the doctor?”

Naruto asks, pressing two fingers to Hinata’s inner wrist. A pulse thrummed very weakly against his fingertips. He slides his fingers down her forearm, until he reaches the underside of her elbow. He secures her arm over his shoulder. Hinata starts to cry, very softly. The sound of someone who’s in unbearable pain and can do nothing but cry.

“Breathe…” he murmurs against her throat, trying to avoid contact with the instrument protruding from her chest. A thin vein drummed against his lips and he could hear her raspy breathing.

_Good girl._

 Naruto strings an arm around her waist and starts to carefully extract her from the back seat of the Audi. The leather interior really aided in his endeavor to be swift but meticulous—she’s lost enough blood, there was just no getting around that but he could try his hand at making this transition as smooth as possible.

“Uh-yep, she’s inside. Don’t know if she’ll be able to do much for  _this_  though.” Lee says in a grievous tone, which highly irks Naruto. Lee is bent at the waist and exhaling through his nose—mouth agape. “Tsu is more of a-a school nurse, not a cardiologist or anything that requires a blood transfusion. This isn’t exactly what I was expecting when you said she had gotten stabbed in the chest. I thought maybe a thumbtack injury or something less—less  _this_.  _God_ , I can—I can smell the blood.”

Of course, faggot brows would be the guy who couldn’t stomach flesh wounds.

 “Seriously  _dumbass_ , a  _fucking_  thumbtack?”

“A part of me even thought you were just kidding around but just—just in case I got  _Tsunade_. But, as I now see—you weren’t. Hinata needs some serious medical attention, the type of treatment only a reputable hospital can prescribe.”

“No time for that, stand back.”

He can hear Lee shuffling behind him, crunchy grass flattening under his feet.

 Once he’s dragged Hinata to the edge of the seat, he hooks an arm beneath the underside of her knees and hoists her from the car, at the same moment that she makes a groan of discomfort and her face contorts into a mask of pain.

Naruto looks at her face, her eyes are wrenched tight, her lashes are wet and stuck together. Her plush lips tremble and tears roll down her cheeks. Something that feels like both anger and impatience drills into his gut and his skin continues to break out in,  _effort_ sweat. The back of his shirt had been sticking to his spine like second skin and sweat rolled down the ridges of his toned abdomen. Not only is his left arm still numb, but he’s certain his elbow is dislocated.     

Hinata’s dangling legs swing, the heel of her feet knocking into his leg as he starts to stride for the house. The arm over his shoulder hangs slack.

Lee jogs at his side, unable to keep up with his brisk walk across the lawn.

The sky is dark and starry. Lee lives in a fairly suburban area, the type of place where everyone knew everyone and strangers watered the lawn—free of charge.

The streetlights loom over yards offering pools of pale light and buzzing moths. Strangers walked the pavement, indistinct chatter filling the atmosphere. The air is crisp and even though he takes a deep breath all he can smell is Hinata’s blood, mingling with the dizzying smell of lilac.

Her blood had seeped through his shirt, going cold against his skin. His head is spinning and his mouth feels dry.

“...did you find her like this o-or something?” Lee stutters, hands flying around in stressful gestures as he talked, “I just  _think_ she’d be better off in th-“

“Listen _faggo—_ Lee _._  If we sit around with our thumbs up our asses waiting for the paramedics, she’ll be that much closer to dying. I get that this lady might not be able to guarantee a full recovery this instant but if she can stop the bleeding—Hinata can heal just enough to make the trip to the hospital. That’s all that matters right now.”

He can feel Lee staring at him, then the smaller boy takes a deep breath and sighs, though it comes out like a hiss.

“Ya—ya,” Lee breathes, “You’re probably right. This is all just super  _bizarre_. I’ve lived in Konohagakure all my life—nothing like this ever just  _happens_. Who would—who would do this to her and why?”

It’s only now that it really sinks in that he missed a golden opportunity to not only kill the whore but escape without having to tie up a loose end.

The only witness had been stabbed, coincidently by the bitch he had been preying on for a full month and a half.

If he had chosen to go after Sakura, if he had allowed Hinata to bleed out and die—his break away could have been a lot cleaner. He’d have gotten away scot free, would be buying tickets to scope out some other town, hunting another. 

_Fuckin’ stupid…stupid…_

Now, Sakura was wandering around, unscathed and fully aware of the dangers that nearly befell her.   It’s pretty much her word against theirs and that bitch would lie up a storm if she had to. Although in this case, even without fabricating the story to suit her she’d get sympathy. Hell, she got away with being an accomplice to rape—a rape that nobody believes because the fucking mayor of the town is a helicopter parent.

He could leave, if that’s what it takes to ensure that he could go on. If he must, he can double back. Tuck Sakura’s name away for a later date. She was never the real target but since her whore of a mom had kicked the bucket already, she was the next best substitution.  

A figure appears on Lee’s front porch, holding the screen door open. The porches lamplight illuminates a woman’s honeyed but sharp brown eyes, framed by crow’s feet. Hay colored blonde hair hangs loosely over her shoulders and she’s wearing a tank top—which seems much too small to contain her busty chest.

“Tsu, you remember Hinata Hyuuga?”

Lee asks, mounting the stairs first. The steps creak as Naruto follows, feeling Hinata’s the slight motion of Hinata breathing in his arms. When he exhaled, she inhaled, it’s as though their bodies were feeding each other the same shred of oxygen.

The woman had an Amazonian build and toned arms. She backed into the house, giving both Lee and Naruto room to enter.

“Rings a bell...”

“Hiashi’s daughter?” Lee adds, trying to jog the woman’s memory.

“It’ll come to me later.”

The woman suddenly appears at Naruto’s side. She starts checking vitals speedily, dexterously. The solemn shaking of her head bothers Naruto to no end but he silently observes.

“Pulse is very faint, obvious penetrating chest trauma…. copious blood loss. Has she passed out?”

Naruto shakes his head, “No.”

“That’s peculiar. How long has it been since the incident?”

“Uh, ten—fifteen minutes?”

“This is probably more than you’ve signed up for.” Lee indirectly apologizes and Naruto wants to punch him in the throat.

The blonde woman seems to morph into a type of urgent mode. She shifts her hips and points in the direction of a kitchen table. The sinewy mess of her arms has Naruto wondering if she’s some sort of transvestite-hag-hybrid but he keeps his mouth shut. This  _man_  could probably give him a run for his money. 

“Young man, I need you to lay her over there carefully. Lee, I’m going to need rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, towels, water and a needle and thread.”

“I—I’ll see what I’ve got  _grandmama_.” Lee replies very smugly, sprinting off. The woman scowls in his direction, like she wants to curse after him but thinks better of it.

“Pft.” She then looks to Naruto and nudges her head in the direction of the table. “ _Table. Now. “_ She snaps her fingers.  “I’ll be with you in just a moment  _dear_ , I’ll patch you up. My hands need to be sterilized before we began.”

The blonde woman’s sandals clack as she exits the main area, and vanishes down the hall.

Naruto shuffles around towers of discarded textbooks and Lee’s half opened laptop. The kitchen lights are dim and the kitchen is unimpressive and bland. He lowers Hinata onto the table, and although she doesn’t weigh much—it’s a relief to place her on something sturdy.  

He goes to step back but Hinata is suddenly fisting the end of his shirt, holding onto it for dear life.

“Naru…to…dun…. don’t  _go_.” she gulps audibly and repeats the choppy sentence again. “ _p-please.”_

  Instinctively, without his own command his fingers slide over her cold, tiny, fist—steeling her shaky fingers under his firm hold. His skin seems to thaw her fingers, soon, her temperature matches his.  

He can see her blinking up at him. He wonders which Hinata he’s talking to but when a smile quivers across her lips, he’s positive he knows.  

It’s his selfless bunny.  _His._

Looking at her now, he can feel his insides ripping themselves apart. One side of him wanting desperately to stay—to comfort her through this back-alley surgery. Like they were some sort of lovers, and not two deviants of society—standing on borrowed time. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ha, wouldn’t that be something?  Him, the cliché hero. The one that saves the girl, knocks her up and lives happily ever after.   _What a pipe dream._ How could that even work? Between a nutso and someone like him?

“ _Please...”_  Hinata croaks, eyes gleaming with tears. His fingers grip hers tighter, so tightly, it almost feels like his fingers could sink straight through her bones. He can feel her trying to pull him, because he knows he’s backing away.

_Fuck. She’s making this hard._

The world feels pulseless around him and there’s just her, there’s just him, staring at one another like this was the last time.

He could hear his own blood pounding in his ears, he could feel the trepidation—like static, buzzing between them.

To think, he had a soft spot for this crazy girl. What’s wrong with him, right? He’s been denying it for so long, that in this moment—the clarity is blinding.

_“Please…”_

Hinata was as close to his idea of perfection as it gets, but a far cry from societies idea of the ideal woman. She was a fucking lunatic, battling two personalities but amongst all that shit, she was a fighter. Through and through, it would seem, all her life she’s been losing.  

He could feel her knuckles cracking under his fist. His brain giving his fingers a clear order:

_Let go._

But his fingers only seemed to fossilize around hers.

It reminded him of another time. That first time, the first woman he had ever slain in the name of vengeance for his mother. The woman’s body had long since been lifeless, but his fingers remained around her throat.

The line had been crossed, as he looked over his work with morbid fascination. His emotions were going haywire, he was somewhere between guilt stricken and delirious with power.

He couldn’t sever his ties—to the old him. To the kid that could never imagine taking a life, not after all the blood he had seen that day.  _How could anyone kill?_  Life is a gift and it’s fragile. Everyone only has one.  _How could anyone kill?_

He toed the line and he stepped over it. It’s seemed irreversible. The sin, he had just committed would stain him for eternity and the next few would be his ticket to hell.

The demon inside of him had won.

When he let go, of the first victim, he’d be saying goodbye to that little boy. He’d be saying goodbye to anything that resembled having a normal life, having morals and goals. Having children, having love.

He said goodbye.

Those things, they were never in the cards for him.

   _Let go._

Hinata was pure. She was selfless, humble and beautiful. She is the  _sui generis_  of all his victims and yes, she was undoubtedly a victim in all of this. Anything he touches, he eventually corrupts and destroys. And though she was already broken, the result of him sticking around would be catastrophic.

He could hear Lee shuffling back into the room and the spell of silence shattered.  

He’s conscious, for the first time, that his feet are moving and he’s stepping away. His shirt slipping through her fingers and he lets go, stiff fingers releasing her fist. He can see her shaking with soft anguished cries but he’s already twisting around and gunning out the door.

Lee calls after him but he’s miles away, drifting towards the car. Trying to assemble rational thoughts. He only feels somewhat together when he’s closed into his car, but even then—the lilac and the blood jump down his knotted throat.

Something hot flared through his chest, the impulse to hit something surges through his bloodstream but a light noise catches his ear.

A cellphones generic tone sings through the car and he digs his cell from his back pocket.  _What the fuck now?_ It’s probably Lee, he thinks to himself. 

He turns his cell over in his hand and the phone stares blankly at him, mirroring his disheveled appearance.

_What the…_

 The tone is coming from the back seat. He shifts around in the driver’s seat and discovers Sakura’s cellphone, flashing incessantly on the blood streaked leather seats.

He contemplates tossing it on the side of the road, on his way out of town but the moment he reaches back to procure it, he notices the name:  ** _Sass._**

The name strikes a vague memory. One he hadn’t been too absorbed in at the time. Ino had said the name before, referring to him so…nonchalantly. They probably don’t know the truth. To them, the guy was falsely accused. No one even knew that Sakura was involved. No one except Hinata—and now him but why hadn’t she told on Sakura?

The phone continues to ring.

 _One things for sure, this has to be the guy._ The guy responsible for breaking her.

 It’s a split-second decision. Hadn’t he just said goodbye?

He pads the green icon and presses the phone to his ear.

The end is silent for a moment and then he hears a familiar voice.

“ _Sakura, what’s so important that you’ve been blowing my phone up all day?” The voice asks._

And just like that, he feels like he’s been possessed by an entirely different demon.

“Sasuke.”


	21. Daddy's Little Monster

 

_“It takes a monster to destroy a monster.”_

_As his mother became more out of reach, a result of her doctor upping her medication dosage in hopes of sedating her volatile behavior, his father enrolled him in a public school. The only public school that would take him this late in the year. He already had his doubts that he’d fit in, but remained somewhat hopeful—that he’d find a friend._

_Being home schooled kind of sucked and he had no one to talk to. He rarely got the chance to socialize with kids his own age but he was hopeful. Today things were going to change._

_His father had even gone out and bought him some trousers and a fresh T-shirt. Even giving him money to buy hot lunch._

_It felt strange, going off from home—alone. To a place where his parents wouldn’t be. A place his mother’s cries couldn’t reach him and his father couldn’t storm into and punch his face in for being a disappointment._

_Safety. For a little while at least._

_“Do you hear me boy?”_

_“Y-yes sir.” He lies. Though, out of fear, he starts to listen._

_“Don’t let any of these kid’s punk you out. You aren’t some fucking pathetic runt and I’m not sending you out to make friends. No one is your friend. It’s survival of the fittest and this is a test, of strength, discipline and knowledge. These little snot nosed shits aren’t your friends—they’re obstacles. You’re going to school for an education and that’s that. Understood?”_

_“…but Tou-san, w-what if they’re really nice a—and they want to be my friend? Kaa-san says friends are blessings.”_

_The air was ripe with the pleasant, dewy petrichor of the post-rain earlier this morning. Obstinate clouds hang low over the city—looking ready to burst and drizzle. But it’s humid, so humid his shirt sticks to the outline of his spine and his backpack is heavy on his back. He has to keep swiping his forearm over his forehead, pushing aside the fine blonde baby hairs matted to his forehead. A bead of sweat hangs from his septum and he runs his tiny knuckles underneath._

_Cicadas buzz in the distance and his father takes a pull of his cigarette, staring up and down the road with visible impatience. His jaw tenses and he grits his teeth for a short while._

_“Does she? She who does not own a single friend.” His father mused chuckling, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Naruto watches a spiral of smoke spring from his quirked lips. “Your mother isn’t right in the head son. She clings to her foolish delusions and her fairytales. You’d do well to not let her fill your mind with such idiocy. She’s hardly anyone to confide in, a donkey’s ass would be of more assistance than any of the shit coming from your mother’s foul mouth.”_

_His father flicks the cigarette and it skips across the dirt. He crushes it with the toe of his boot and places both his hands in his pockets, icy blue eyes turning on Naruto. Wisps of smoke spiral from his nostrils like a fiendish dragon after it’s breathed fire._

_It shouldn’t bother him, the insults towards his mother. His father always says them, always undermines her but his fist is clenched and anger becomes a weight in his stomach. His insides are burning up painfully, like a flame to parchment and he takes a deep breath. He ignores the skipping frantic beats of his heart._

_“Another thing, you’re too old to be sleeping in bed with her. You have your own bedroom and the nightmares are no excuse now. You’re practically a young man, coming into curiosity, urges and growing all over. Your mother isn’t some girl to quench your hormones. If I ever, walk into our bedroom and catch you under the sheets with her, I’ll drag you out myself and beat you within an inch of your life. You and your mother are my property and more trouble than you’re both worth, d’you know that? You’d be nothing without me and the only reason I haven’t gotten rid of you both is because I’ve wasted a lot of time with you two. I’m holding out hope that you’ll be worth something someday. Otherwise you’ll be just like your mother, a waste of space.”_

_Anger swells in his veins, blood pumping wildly through his ears. He isn’t entirely sure why it bothers his father so much. The nights that he sleeps with his mother, were the nights they both managed to get a wink of sleep. His mother doesn’t cry when he’s nuzzled beside her, curled up against her womb and drifting off. She always hums to him and strokes his hair, always tells him love stories—mostly how she met his father. He couldn’t draw a link between the man in the stories and the man who crams both he and his mother into the kennels when he has a woman over. Or the man who makes his mother eat her food off the ground. He’s unrecognizable, like his mother imagined the whole thing._

_“Understood, Tou-san.”_

_He’s full of relief when the bus appears, plumes of dust emanating from it. The engine is hard and the lights start blinking as it decelerates into a halt._

_Naruto grips the straps of his backpack, nervousness jolting frantically through the entirety of his body. He hides a smirk from his father, though he could feel the mirth practically oozing from his own eyes, in the form of hot liquid running down his cheeks._

_He quickly fists his tears away before his father could reprimand him._

_“Remember what I told you. It takes a monster to destroy a monster. Be the bigger monster and no one will ever try you.”_

* * *

 

“ _Naruto_?” Sasuke asks incredulously, bewilderment trickling into his slurred husk. Possibly high on his own supply. “That you dobe? Funny I thought I dialed the wrong….” Sasuke trails off and there’s an abundant amount of static and noise on his end.

He’s checking the caller I.D, believing that he has mistakenly called him. “the wrong—uh…number but...” Sasuke clears his throat. “No, this is my girlfriends phone, s—so it’s a bit unsettling, that you’d be on the other end. You. Don’t tell me you’re dipping it in my Kool-Aid. I mean, I know I’ve shared a few  _scraps_  of meat with you but  _Sakura,_  she’s off limits.”

_Girlfriend?_

_Girlfriend._

A vein starts to thrum maddeningly in his neck, as he clasped the phone with all his might—hoping that he could get a hold over the eruption taking place inside of him. There are a thousand replies swarming and buzzing around in his brain, begging to fall from his lips with unfiltered hostility and unquestionable severity.

But he takes a breath and like the proverbial chameleon that he is, he adapts.

“Girlfriend? Does she know that…?” He asks, savoring every breath he took. He chuckles when Sasuke doesn’t answer. “Does she know that you’re a faggot?” He clarified, though the ambiguity of the question could work both ways.

“All she needs to  _know_ , is that I own her.” Sasuke replies smoothly. “Where the fuck is she anyway? Are you her new fucking secretary now, where’s the sexy ass blonde babe?”

Naruto was smiling so hard, he could feel the skin of his face starting to thin. He had never killed a guy before and he wonders what pleasure could be had? He was on the verge of finding out.

“Can’t pick a side, huh.” Naruto teases, despite the strain in his throat.

Sasuke made a small noise and scoffed, “I top in every scenario so is there really any use in discussing my sexuality. Either way, I’m dominant.”

“Ya, well, sugar still tastes like sugar—even when it’s added to chili con carne.”

Sasuke laughs, somewhat dementedly and hisses out a sigh.

“Don’t knock it till you try it. You’d be surprised how similar boy-pussy feels with enough lube. In some cases, it even feels better than real pussy.”

Naruto chuckles without humor, “Ya—no, asshole. You really are what you eat man.”

“Fuck outta here,” Sasuke says, sounding affronted. “Some places, the mouth just doesn’t belong. Anyway, where’s Sakura? Don’t tell me you really are giving her the  _work_ , before you’ve even gave me the time of day. I mean she’s a great fuck and all but, it’s a little lackluster, it’s like fucking a grapefruit. It tastes great but it doesn’t  _fight back_ , ya know?”

_It doesn’t fight back._

_Doesn’t fight back…_

He doesn’t know why but a brief flash of Hinata’s face comes into the frame of his mind. Naruto recalls their first meeting in the bathroom and how she tried to scratch at him, a feeble attempt to escape him. He can’t help but to imagine her, pinned down by Sakura and writhing beneath Sasuke.

Helpless and betrayed.

It isn’t that hard to imagine, not really.

He’s tag teamed enough women with Sasuke to know that he’s vigorous in bed, rough and at times angry. There were times that Naruto would be pulled out of his own horny spell because the chick’s nose was pressed flush against his pubes while Sasuke annihilated her from the back. 

There were several times where he chose to sit it out, because Sasuke’s appetite rivaled even his. The guy was insatiable. Naruto couldn’t tell if the bitches were just too coked out to realize what was happening, or if they just couldn’t even feel anything.

He’d smoke a joint and just watch Sasuke rail them nonstop, a brutal assault—even by his standards, which were low to begin with.

The sluts were always screaming, limbless and always thrown around like material rather than flesh and bones. Sasuke would cuss at them, slap them, spit in their faces and fuck them with contempt. 

At the time he could care less, it’s like watching hardcore porn and he even gets so wound up in the ferocity of it all that he has to reluctantly rub one out. Unless of course, he favored a girl.

There were a few cases where women with fair skin and dark hair would turn him on. It hadn’t been their faces, just their physical similarities—reminding him of  _Hinata_. During those instances, he’d selfishly indulge in the girl, never allowing Sasuke to get in on the action. 

He’d hit it from the back, fisting his fingers through lustrous black hair, gripping firmly on a small waist and envisioning his bunny taking him beautifully and begging for more. It turned him on like crazy and before he knew it he was jackhammering into the slut, a name on the tip of his tongue though he never breathed it out. 

He stares out the windshield of the car, mind pulsating with a growing migraine.

“You there dipshit?” Sasuke asks, irritably.

“Uh, ya. Sakura’s at my place, we take Anatomy together and we’re assigned partners.”

Sasuke chuckles, a throaty sound to his voice, “Shit! You’ve got fucking Iruka? Small fuckin’ world, I take that shit online—well, I was. Dropped it last semester.”

“Ya, well, lucky you.”

“That fucker is probably way more enigmatic in person. Never met him but I’ve been on campus before, mostly for party deliveries and end of semester exams. I try and link up with the locals from time to time. I’ve got good customers in that place, some professors too.”

Sakura’s phone vibrates in his hands, and the screen is hot against his face. Another imagine of Hinata’s glossy eyes flash through his mind. He can see Sasuke wedged between her legs slamming into her, mercilessly, intent on shattering bones. 

He could hear her voice in his ear, raw from crying…screaming and begging.

“How long is she going to be over?”

Naruto shrugged thoughtlessly, “Shit, the hell if I know. We’re nowhere near close to finish. Why?”

Sasuke was silent for a moment, he made a thoughtful noise and then yawned.

“She kept texting me an address, a  _Yega_  street—that you?”

“Yeah.”

The imagine strobed through him again, and he bit so hard on his lip that it began swelling immediately. Anger hot in his chest, thinking about Sasuke spitting on her, smacking her—hurting her. Repeatedly. Hinata helplessly fighting Sakura while her body got pummeled and violated by a guy who had probably been hopped up on pcp or one of the many drugs he distributes.

He scratches at his jaw, trying to stop the dangerous tread of his mind. Trying to not act on his possessive nature, at least not right now.

He didn’t want to tip Sasuke off to anything, didn’t want to give him an opportunity to suspect that he may be in danger. Naruto’s fingers were practically itching, wanting to get around Sasuke’s throat, wanting to carve his teeth from his gums…to push the tip of a blade through the tip of his cock and shove it as far as it could go.

He wants to bleed this piece of shit and spit on his wounds. Wanted to make blood gush out of him, and drag his hardened and lifeless carcass to Hinata. Like a dog with some rudiments of a dead bird trapped between its teeth.

“Maybe I’ll stop by?” Sasuke’s says, it’s a thinly veiled threat— _very territorial_. Naruto’s alpha senses seem to peak by the unvoiced challenge and he almost laughs.

Though he hadn’t fucked Sakura, he had cum in her mouth innumerable times. It’s a point not worth mentioning, it would only complicate the new plan. The one that involves Sasuke voluntarily coming to his house. 

“Fuck yeah. Bring some party favors while you’re at it.”

“Hn, looks like I’ve created a fucking monster. You’re hooked, next thing you know—you’re going to be sucking my dick for a rail, like a fucking bitch.”

He actually laughs at this, “You should be so lucky. Hell would freeze over before I’m on the other end of something I already have, just way more endowed, and bigger than your shriveled shit.”

Sasuke howls, “Fuck you.”

“There you go again, never missing the opportunity to fag-out.”

Sasuke only sighs, “Whatever, text you when I head out. Gonna wrap up some business I’ve got going on right quick.”

“Alright. See you, I’ll let Sakura know you called.”

He’s about to hang up when Sasuke says, “Oh and Naruto, Sakura  _is_  off limits.  _Ok?”_

The nerves in his body freezes up with hostility. This asshole, who had been fucking and raping women had the nerve to try and restrict him from someone. The irony of it all was truly entertaining to him. He slouches in the driver seat, nodding thoughtfully. 

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to worry about. We’re friends, right?”

Sasuke hesitates for a moment before chuckling lowly, “Ya—ya, uh, I’m gonna go take care of this. See you soon.”

He hangs up. A wave of anger radiated like heat over his flesh. It felt like he’d burst into flames at any moment but he dragged in several tranquil breaths, closing his eyes and bracing the phone between both his weathered fingers.

He had never beaten anyone to death with his bare fists, and with the way he was feeling now he’d probably excel at it. It could be his new method. Messy and unorthodox but he’s almost certain that it had its merits. To mutilate Sasuke, beat him way beyond recognition would restore him to his former glory. Letting Sakura get away had been an error in judgement. Seeing the bitch cry might’ve made him believe that she had ben repentant and possibly traumatized by assaulting someone.

She probably even thinks that she’s killed Hinata. Going to the cops would only implicate her, so, where does that leave her?

He cocks his head to the side, staring calculatingly at the luminous blue of the speedometer.

_What to fucking do?_

_The plan, fuck, is there even a plan anymore?_ He’s been winging it, going into things without so much as an outline. To say that he had a lot riding on this—this life, he certainly wasn’t doing it by the book. These were rookie moves, dancing around in plain sight and not killing the targets.

But this…

_This is personal._

Not only did Sasuke try to check him, but the asshole was the prime suspect in Hianta’s misery.

This disgusting piece of shit touched his  _bunny_ , ruined her, split her into two people and got to roam around unrepentant and free. Hinata was a fucking mess, she was fucked up in the head and he’s to blame.

All this time, she’s been living in this place—all alone. No one to rescue her, to shield her. No one to come to her defense and believe in her. Someone stole her voice, someone tore her apart and no one gave a shit about it.

No one gave a shit about his mom either. 

_Mom…_

She always desperately sought acceptance from his father. Cutting herself, drowning herself, all to gain his attention. He never understood it, why she chose to hurt herself but it’s become increasingly clear.

In the end, he could love his mother all he wanted but the only person she sought love from was his  _father_. His father just seemed to use that love against her…like…like him.

_Like him, using Hinata. Using her…using…_

It clicks in his brain, clicks in place deafeningly. His stomach contracts violently, then drops and something raw builds up in his esophagus. Dizzying nausea shakes his brain.

_‘It takes a monster, to destroy a monster.’_

Clumsily, he grabs at the door handle and yanks it. The car starts to chime and the ceiling lights come on. Naruto lurches forward and out the door. Chunks of partially digested pork covered in the creamy chyme from his stomach spews out of his coughing, and choking mouth. His brain feels fried and scrambled from the revelation.

The pungent stench invades his nostrils and his stomach contracts again. His face goes white, dripping bile and sweat.  _What the fuck is happening to me?_  The cool air grazes his volcanic skin as he chokes out the contents of his cramping stomach.

_You’re just like him._

“No…” his voice was small, feeble, and weak. His voice starts to tremble with delirious laughter. A yarn of spit glistens and sticks to his chin as he doubles over. He could see a milky—brownish mess flooding the grass in front of him. His stomach churns sickeningly and he’s puking again.

Laughing, choking and heaving.

_How else did you think you survived that house? Someone weaker would’ve blown their brains out._

A nerve pinches somewhere behind his eyeballs. He’s breathing hard and scraping blunt nails through his hair.

It’s stupid, and he knows he’s talking to himself, like he’s gone to the dark side. The insanity side. This is it. He’s losing it. This shit has got to be hereditary.  _An Uzumaki trait_ , as his father had called it.

His mother’s maiden name, the sole reason the cops haven’t kicked through the doors of his home yet and crucified him.

His mother was still shielding him, even in death, she remained the pillar he’s hid behind. She changed his name to Menma (not legally), she dyed his hair. She was so focused on trying to prevent him from being his father—she had to know, he was becoming  _him_  all along. She had to have sensed it, had to have known.  _Is that why you did it?_  Why she left him.

Bubbly laughter tightens his chest with a searing pain. Like a fracture to his ribs. He can’t tell if tears are trekking down his face because his ribs are tensed in chronic laughter or because of the disturbing revelation.

He’s become someone he’s hated all his life. Someone who would put their cigarette out on his forehead and kicked him in the ribs until they broke under the soles of his boot. Someone who threatened to kill him on numerous occasions, someone who’s never cared for anyone but themselves. 

Naruto laughs so hard that his mouth goes stiff, putrid scented saliva dribbled down the corners of his lips and his knees start to buckle. His body seizes up with muted laughter and he folds into a squat. He mashes the heel of his palms against his eyes until it feels like they’d combust. He fists his hair until he can feel strands being plucked from his stinging scalp. Distress saturates his chest and he can hear his mother, as clear as a bell, telling him to breathe. Cooing it into his ears.

It’s like he’s a child all over again, hugging his ribs after a beat down. In the fetal position and breathing in a high pitch. A mess of piss, tears and bruised limbs. It feels like death but the kindness, that is death, never comes. 

_Just breathe._

His heart spasms in his chest and he sucks down the crisp air. It takes him a moment to get a successful rhythm but the oxygen finally gets to his brain and through his chest. The ringing in his ears become distant and he hears the phone ringing. 

It occurs to him that this had been the second break down he’s experienced within the same month and he isn’t sure what to make of it.

He wipes at his lips with his forearm. Standing upright, he twists around and reaches blindly across the seat for Sakura’s cellphone. He picks up the phone and realizes it isn’t Sakura’s cell. It’s his. He reaches into the cup holder and doesn’t bother looking at the caller ID.

“Naruto, hey there, it’s Ino.”

Naruto can feel his blood running cold.

“What’s up Yamanaka, something wrong?” He tries to disguise the rawness of his tone.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m currently two hours away from campus—Sai and I were out of town but Sakura called from the landline on campus. She was really shaken up about something, I can’t really say—but she seemed super spooked, if you could believe that. I tried to get her to maybe give you a call but she seemed very adamant about it, for _whatever_  reason. I hate to go behind her back but it’d give me some peace of mind if you’d go—maybe check up on her?”

The bitch basically fucked herself over.

“If you aren’t doing anything.” Sai interjects, distantly. They must’ve had him on speaker phone. He can hear the low hum of an engine and choppy music.

“No—I—I’m uh free actually. Do you happen to know where she is on campus?”

“Yeah I sent her to my dorm room. You remember which building and the number right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Thanks guys, I’ve been trying to get  _ahold_ of her myself.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then Ino sighed.

“Don’t sweat it man, we all know how _extra_  she gets.” Sai says and then, somewhat defensively. “What, you know it’s true  _doll face_.”

Naruto assumes that Ino probably gave him an accusative glare for being unapologetically honest. 

The two-start bickering amongst themselves and Naruto intervenes.

“I’ll pop in on her.”

“Thanks sweetie, please keep us posted.”

“Will do.”

He hung up, faith fully restored.


	22. Retribution

**_A/N- Oh man, this was a monster chapter! We're now at the home stretch guys and I couldn't be happier! Almost done! Hiphip*Horray. Thanks Nixx for pushing me to continue writing. You're the less lazier part of me and this fiction would never get done if it wasn't for you, mentally abusing me. Anyway I hope you call enjoy this chapter!_ **

**_Trigger warning: mentioned anal rape, implied rape, abuse, sex trafficking._ **

**_Please don't be mad. Also keep in mind that this is a NaruHina fic so, don't worry, we're going to take care of the babies._ **

**_Edited: 4/25/2018 9:45 a.m_ **

* * *

**_Chapter sixteen: Retribution_ **

**_Title: I Want You to Cry_ **

**_By: Yuhikoi &Nixx_ **

**_Song: Lo-Fang: Boris_ **

* * *

_'I said Baby, come up to my office_

_You played at my party_

_I owe you some money_

_You owe me your lips_

_I'm gonna give tips_

_I heard your boyfriend's out of town'_

He made a pit-stop at the hardware store. It's just off campus, a few blocks give or take. There were familiar faces all around, students working to pay off their accruing loans. Conveniently, he recovered some headphones from the dash, hoping it would dissuade people from approaching him while he raced against the clock.

Formalities were a thing in the past, his identity has already been compromised and he isn't dumb enough to think that he has any real friends here. His father has always been right in that aspect. It's survival of the fittest, and he's always held himself accountable for  _himself_. If any of these kids knew who he was, they'd sell him out in a heartbeat.

Naruto smoothly tows a buggy behind him; the wheels wiggle and the buggy squeaks. The blonde procures a bag of black zip ties and tosses them carelessly over his shoulder, into the cart. They land with a soft  _thud._

He's already gotten a few shady looks thrown his way, the blood smeared across his chest was probably the culprit. Rather than behave like a questionable character, he adopted an easy gait—relaxed, like he had all the time in the world stashed in his pocket.

On the inside, however, his brain was going ninety miles a minute. His eyes were speedily scanning the aisle markers to make the scavenger hunt for tools less employee dependent. He wasn't in the mood to strike up a conversation, not while his life as he knew it was nearing a proverbial iceberg.

_'Baby, aren't you hungry?_

_I could give you codeine_

_Or could get my car keys_

_Oh, what a cute dress_

_Right now it's useless_

_I heard your boyfriend's out of town'_

He skims his mental list of, _'must have's'._

 _Masking tape_ , he could've gone with duct but he doesn't want to rouse that sort of publicity. His cart was already beginning to look like  _utensils of murder-college prep_ , since he added a shovel and rope into the mix. He's never been in the habit of doing things last minute but as of late, things seemed to be completely out of his control. Normally, before he perused his marks, he has always made preparations. Bringing them home played an integral part in grand scheme of things. He needed them to be cooperative, needed them to be putty in his hands because if they fought for their lives—he would fight _harder_ to obtain their lives _._  Sometimes they never make it to the basement.

It's like catching a tiger by its tail after failing to sedate it. He doesn't like to subdue them and normally they come willingly, except, on the off chance—when they put two and two together. They fight him in the car; try to claw his eyes out or stab him in the cock with the cigarette light after noticeably yanking it from its receptacle.

He tries to exercise,  _'slight of hand'_  but sometimes, sometimes he's already impatient and in most cases, he feels like the tiger and he snaps.

_'And you should get out of town too.'_

_'Yeah, you should get out of town too.'_

About time he approaches a self-checkout register it's  _10:40_  p.m. Lee's contact photo flickers across his phone and unlike the other six times where he blatantly ignored it, he answers—slipping the phone into his back pocket as he began scooping up and examining the products for their bar-codes.

"What?" He asks flatly, scanning the rope over the infer red laser.

Mp3 music continues to play in the background, very softly.

"Why'd you run off like that? It's really inconsiderate to Hinata, how do you think she's gonna feel when she wakes up and realizes you just abandoned ship?"

Naruto bags the rope and shrugs, "Who cares, I got her help didn't I?"

"Still doesn't cancel out that you just bailed on her. What's the rush anyway?"

Naruto chuckles, "If I told you, it'd be all over the school."

He can hear wind hitting the receiver on Lee's end. Lee sighs and is quiet for an eternal moment before speaking again.

"That isn't true and you know it. Do you think I just go around starting rumors? Just because I know resourceful information, it doesn't mean I go around blabbing to anyone who'll give me the time of day. I keep to myself, the things I happen to know—I don't ask around to get them. I just happen to be in the right place at the wrong times."

"Still, it doesn't concern you."

"Really?" Lee asks incredulously and then, _"Really!?_ " He nearly shrieks, his voice hoarse and strikingly comical, to Naruto at lest. Naruto has always known him to be animated but this was by far the most outraged he's ever been. His voice is shaky and he's breathing harshly into the phone. The discomfort and fear in his voice is detectable.

"I don't at least,  _at the very least_  deserve some sort of an explanation about why  _Hinata was….!"_ He pauses, takes a deep breath and his voice drops to a whispering hiss, " _bleeding out?_  You brought her to my place, which makes me relevant in all of this. Shouldn't I at least know the full story—whether it's bullshit or not—when I call the paramedics you know the cops are likely to get involved. What then? Because I know for damn sure the cops will think it  _concerns_ me. Name a case where being left in the dark was a valid excuse!?"

Lee is blowing on the other end and Naruto wonders if he's smoking or just simply out of breath because of the fuckin' theatrics.

The blonde scans the zip ties and tosses them in the plastic bag, with a smirk of amusement.

"Whoa, buddy, take a load off. Seriously man, I'm concerned. What exactly do you think is going on here?"

"You tell me!? Our classmate is bleeding out on top of my grandma's antique table and you're just acting like it's a regular  _smegular_  day at the office. Does that not register in your brain? What part of that is A-O-fucking-K to you?! And you—and you just  _ditched_  her!" Lee starts screaming and breathing,hyperventilating. Naruto sighs, scratching at his brow.

_Shit, he's losing it._

"Hey buddy, I'm gonna need for you to take a deep breath and calm the  _fuck_  down."

Lee continues breathing hysterically and Naruto lets him regain his composure.

"I-I'm fine I just—" More breathing, "I just—she's—I just need you to be straight with me on this one. Did y-you or did you not see who—who's responsible for this?"

"Maybe."

"Can you not do this."

"Do what?"

"You know  _what._  Can you not be a dick?"

Naruto rolled his eyes heavenward, " _Eh_."

"Don't act like you don't care, I know you do. I can tell, you're always asking about her. You may not consider me a close friend or a friend at all but I'm usually good at picking up on things. Y—you like Hinata, you're  _infatuated_ with her, and the fear in your eyes when y—you got out the car tonight…that was the first time I've ever seen something so unquestionable on your face."

Naruto chuckles, "You know me so well, maybe I'm not the only one among us who's— _infatuated._ "

Lee let out a breathy laugh, "I'm pretty perceptive when it comes to people, I'm a people-watcher. I even watch you. You put on this facade, have people eating out the palm of your hand but really, no one gets to know you—not the real you. I'm sure you have your reasons, for being so closed off. I think you're in some sort of trouble and Hinata somehow got twisted up in all this mess."

Naruto furrows a brow.

"You read a lot of James Patterson novels, huh bud?"

He can practically hear Lee licking his lips.

"This isn't funny and I don't see how you continue to find humor in this."

"I don't. Some panic in a crisis, I am physically incapable of that sentiment. I just feel angry and I find a way to make things  _right_. Sorry to break it to you, but I don't rely on my emotions to get me out of a sticky situation. If you're looking for me to break down and leave it to the Konohagakure justice system to mete out punishment you're sadly mistaken."

"So, you do know who did this?"

"I do."

"And you're going to what, take matters into your own hands?" the faggot asks, like he's somehow disappointed.

"Correct."

"What the hell man!?"

"Do you want the truth or not? Don't ask for shit you don't want."

"No, no that's not it. I'm just-this is all just crazy. You're just going to  _pop_  someone in cold blood?"

"Excuse me,  _pop_? Like owning a gun?" Naruto scoffs, "Guns are tasteless. A punk's easy fix."

"Ok, smart ass,  _killing_. You'd kill someone?"

He could've lied to Lee, could've just laughed it off and told him he wasn't that out of order. He could've just ended the call with a single button and blocked Lee's number but the words were already tumbling off the tip of his tongue.

"Full disclosure? Yes. Just one person, because if I don't get him, he's not going to hesitate to get me. Honest enough for you? Deep down, you know that I'm a piece of shit. You  _know_  I am, you're not a complete fucking idiot Lee, you know somethings off with me. You've known since day one." He pauses, letting his shoulders sink. "Look, the less you fucking know the better."

"Are you and Hinata in some sort of trouble? Deep trouble?"

He wants to hang up on Lee and not feel like he's getting the third degree for being a shit friend and human being.  _Friend._  It hadn't occurred to him that Lee was the first person he's ever called for a favor. Did that make them friends? Or was he simply just using a contact for his own purposes. Honestly, the lines were blurry.

The person Lee had come to know was a fake, a fabricated identity. How could they be friends? How could anyone be his friend? No one knew the real him, and if they ever did, it isn't likely that they'd be dumb enough to stick around.

"What is it?" Lee asks, quietly. "Gangs, mafia…the  _Yakuza_ , are you being blackmailed by someone. These things never end well. Give me a clue man, I can't help if I don't know."

Naruto fishes two twenties from his back pocket and feeds it to the machine as it projects his total. He cusses at the price:  _36 fucking Ryo for this bit of shit._  He awaits his change and receipt. A family shuffles past him and a worker smiles at him in passing. He doesn't bother to return the empty gesture as he gathers the three bags of supplies.

"You couldn't help me even if I needed it, and I don't. I can take care of myself, always have."

Lee sputters a, "I don't need your life to be hanging in the balance too. I just—I just can't deal...its just a lot to take in."

"Well stop asking for honesty if you can't digest it, you fucking dumb ass. I appreciate it buddy, I really do. You came through for Hinata and I. She's alive because of you, you've done enough for tonight."

Lee groans, "Fuck, are you really using this line on me? The whole,  _'you've done your part, leave it up to the professionals'_  shit. That's way too narcissistic even for you. I'm not a fucking sidekick or some kid that needs to be spoon fed the truth. If you're in trouble, which—from the looks of things—leaves me to suspect is so. You owe it to me…the truth. Even if I don't like it. When my friends are in danger, it's not in my nature to just wait idly by the phone expecting good news. This town is wicked enough, this place is a fucking nightmare and bad shit happens to good people every day."

_Friends._

Naruto snatches the receipt and strides for the door, dodging inattentive customers and employees alike. He could hear the distress in faggot brows tone. All this time, he thought the guy's dial was always set to,  _'be an enthusiastic burden.'_

"It's complicated Lee, just take the warnings at face value. It's bad enough that I got  _her_  involved in this shit. No one else need be involved in my baggage. I'm taking care of it.."

Lee sighs, "You aren't going to budge, are you?"

"Ah, c'mon, you just read me like a fucking tarot card. You know the answer to that."

"I suppose I do but still. What do I tell the cop's?"

"You can't tell them shit that you don't know which is why,  _you don't know shit_."

"Are you coming back?"

Naruto sighs, staring up at the looming moon. The crisp air ruffles his clothing and he takes a deep breath.

"I can't." he answered honestly.

"Why?"

"I don't belong here."

"You'd just leave her?"

"She doesn't deserve me and trust me, this isn't my ego speaking."

Lee goes quiet and Naruto wonders if the little bastard had the gull to hang up on him.

"Uchiha, Sasuke."

The name came out like a buzz in his ear. Something in his chest constricts.

"The guy who  _assaulted_  Hinata that night. I know I said I couldn't tell you before but if he has anything to do with this, I feel obligated t—to  _help_. I-I also lied before, when I said I heard him in the locker room. Truth of the matter is I—I was there, for the whole thing. Under the bed that night. Ya, I know, creepy. I had a bit of a thing for Sakura back then, I had it bad for her, that is—until I saw what she was like. Though it may not seem like it, Konoha is a pious place, full of traditions. Homosexuality isn't really accepted here and most who explore it are often condemned and ostracized like they have some sort of virus." Lee began, speaking very slowly. He clears his throat abruptly.

"Go on…"

"As you know, college is sort of a grey area where people don't ride you too much about your sexuality. It's like what those Americans say about Vegas. What happens on campus stays on campus or something to that effect. It was a fraternity party so, obviously they hired ANBU girls—you know, the chicks downtown wearing those strange animal masks? Tell me you've seen them around town?"

Naruto tapped a button on the key fob and tossed the bags in the trunk haphazardly. He recalls seeing the masked hookers, the night he had dropped Hinata off.

"Where exactly is this going?" He asks Lee, tossing back the car door and plopping down in the driver's seat. "I've got a date with a bitch."

"I'm getting there." Lee replies irritably through his teeth. "Sakura, gets stoned and she starts dancing, grinding up on this chick wearing a _rabbit_  mask and it's hot as fuck and every guy in the room is just watching. Anyway, I guess Sakura becomes aware of what she's doing because she practically pushes the girl off and goes to dance on her boyfriend. I had a bit more alcohol than I can take, which isn't much. I go upstairs, hoping to take a quick nap but I hear footsteps and I just roll under the bed to avoid an altercation—I guess what I'm trying to say is I invited myself to the party, everyone was just too drunk to realize I didn't belong. But whatever so, the door slams and suddenly, I hear Sakura talking, I'd know her voice anywhere. I'm peeking up from under the bedspread and I see two women just making out with each other against the door. It's Sakura and now that the other woman has off her mask, I can see that it's Hinata."

Hinata, an ANBU girl? How…fucking peculiar. Were there no limitations to his bunny's versatility. She could be a sweet, bad, little hoe and a  _bitch._  There were just so many sides, he couldn't even keep track. He doesn't know why but just the very idea of Hinata macking full on with another woman has his dick throbbing and hungry. Yes, at a time like this. He leans back in his seat and rubs his jaw thoughtfully.

It's all coming together. The soiled lingerie when her identity was unknown to him, that fucking vagrant in front of the corner store trying to harass her.  _He said her fragrance was familiar._   _Maybe she sucked his livers spotted dick too. That old piece of shit._

Anger engulfs him for a solitary moment like the weight of a thousand suns, caged in his chest. It's grating, it feels like his bones would burn clean through his skin. His chest feels particularly heavy and for just a moment he thinks something profoundly stupid; he thinks that if he was around  _his_  little bunny, he might've pushed that knife a little further and called her every variation of  _'hoe'_. He'd twist that knife in her tiny little chest and promise to break it off in her if she ever, grants her body to someone other than himself.

It's not until he realizes how fucked up that is, that he then realizes, he's simply jealous.  _Jealous._

"So, she's a big slut?" Naruto asks, trying to stifle the symptoms of jealously and failing. Lee makes a strange nasally noise.

"Not necessarily. Hinata was underage. It's illegal for a minor to be an ANBU girl, they're too young to consent to sex. My theory is that she was trafficked into it by her guardian or handler. ANBU girls aren't all about sex, they can be escorts, comfort, eye candy. Who are we to say that she fucked guys? Her uncle could've had her turning tricks a different way."

Naruto doesn't reply, he slams the car door shut, his mind overflowing with these new details. Fuck, was his girl a card.

_A whole fucking deck of them._

"You ok?"

The blonde runs a palm over his face, feeling the light stubble coating his jaw. He scrubs at it with his fingertips.

"Yeah, so, what else happened?"

Lee gulped audibly, "They made out, and then clothes started coming off…" Lee trailed off, as though reliving it. "Hinata started to object to a few of Sakura's requests but Sakura wore her down. The next thing I know, Hinata's on her knees..uh…ya I'll just skip that. So the door plunges open and a guy comes in furiously. Sakura and Hinata look shell shocked. Sakura pushes Hinata away from her and the guy just smacks Sakura, like dude, hard. He smacks the skin off her face, calls her a dyke and Sakura just denies it. So, I'm frozen, ready to piss my fucking pants. Hinata gets up, she tries to excuse herself but the guy grabs her by the hair and pushes her back into the room. He closes the door, locks it. Sakura's apologizing to him, he tells her to shut the fuck up. It happens quick. One minute, he and Sakura screaming at each other. The next, all hell breaks loose. He makes them both strip down naked, despite Hinata's protest and when she doesn't listen Sakura just starts yanking her clothes off. She begs Sakura not to and she's crying. And Sakura keeps saying she has to. It's so weird. Sakura tells her,  _'It's either me or you.'"_ Lee takes a deep breath, long, exasperated.

Naurto's temples are ticking and electric with tension, so much so that it vexes him. His grinds his teeth so hard, he's certain he'd pop a molar. Knowing the full story, knowing that Sakura had ever opportunity to do the right thing but simply chose to contribute to Hinata's rape is enough to push him over the edge of his conflicting morality.

He couldn't articulate the things that he was going to do to the bitch, purely for his own twisted entertainment.

A hot tingle ran up his spine and he closed his eyes, hoping to decelerate the frantic pitter patter of his heart against his rib-cage.

His skin was crawling with both exhilaration and malice. It made him sick to his stomach, to think of everything that might've occurred in the room that night. His bunny was a  _minor_  to top it all off, a child being used and abused like a slave. It fucked him up, to think that things were really this disgusting.

He's far from innocent and arguably, killing was probably a worse offense. Arguably! But this isn't to weigh either crime. This is about  _Hinata._ It's about the loose ends that he needs to tie before he attempts to make a, somewhat, clean escape.

His fists are wound so tightly the skin of his knuckles stretch until his flesh is bone white. There's just one thing bothering him, a tiny voice in the back of his head that he wishes he could ignore but it's louder than ever.

If Lee had been in the room that night, he could have easily prevented the whole thing. To interfere would probably mean getting his ass kicked and being forever referred to as a  _peeping Tom_  but in the end, Hinata wouldn't've had to endure the life long assault. She could be whole, maybe even be living a relatively normal life without having to ingest a dozen pills just to feel normal. She could've pursued her hopes, her dreams, the way his mother never could. She wouldn't be shackled to the name, liar. Because she wasn't, she never was.

If Lee had saved her, he would've never met her.

She wouldn't be in harms way,  _in his way._

He wouldn't be questioning his entire existence, because he wouldn't have met her. Wouldn't have had the chance to sink his teeth into her and influence her.

Lee could've been her catalyst, could've saved her and yet, he didn't. He chose to selfishly stand by, to preserve himself. And even after the fact, being eaten alive by the truth, he continued to stay quiet about it. The world was against her and he was armed with the truth all along.

Naruto's throat felt dry and his nerves made him jitter unconsciously.

"You  _fucking_ coward."

He could hear the boy sniffle on the other end, and for an eternal moment silence engulfed them both.

"I know." Lee hiccoughs in anguish. "I'll  _never_  forgive my—myself or forget."

Naruto does the only thing he can do.

He hangs up.

* * *

Naruto doesn't dally when it comes to kidnapping Sakura. He takes the stairs, avoiding the clutter near the elevators. A few students in the lobby notice him and attempt a conversation but he brushes them off, telling them he had an assignment to get to. No one seemed to buy it and quite frankly he didn't give a shit.

He swaggers down the corridor of the third floor, eyes already seizing the door—Ino's room. His heartbeat spikes, each pulsation ringing through his ears. Adrenaline oozing from his pores like battery acid.

He positions himself strategically outside of Ino's dorm room, out of view from the peephole. The corridor was surprisingly vacant, although he could hear voices behind doors.

He knocks on the door lightly with his knuckles, leaning his head against the door.

His dick is so fucking hard, swelling, and thrumming insistently. The skin of his cheek is trapped savagely between his teeth and he bites down on it, until his raw cheek produces tart blood.

Closing his eyes, he can hear Sakura approaching, shuffling hesitantly towards the door. There may be an entire door separating him from her but the pungent scent of fear is tangible, soaking right through and he savors it. Sliding his palm along the door longingly.

His hands start to shake and the knob begins to twist.

"Ino? Ino thank god!"

_Is god to blame?_

The lock clicks and before she can instinctively scream he ambles into view and crushes her windpipe with a steel hand. Her eyes are wide, rolling and teary. She hysterically starts writhing and jumping on her toes, trying to scream—flailing her arms at him like a rag doll. Every part of him is coiled like a snake, with every fiber of his being, he concentrates all his strength to crushing the fragile columns of her neck.

"Wrong blonde..."

Her body trembles and she dry heaves, awarded no oxygen in the process. Fat tears roll down her red cheeks and the look of astonishment on her face is almost cum inducing. He starts to froth with rage and something he couldn't even comprehend. He takes a step into the room, still strangling her.

"Did you really think, I wouldn't find you?"

He enunciates the sentence with several firm shakes. The meat of her frail throat straining between his fingers. Groggily, she raises her arms and hands, very weakly she fingertips graze the hard fathomless mask of his face. Suddenly, she sinks her talons into the skin of his face, like a meat hook. She bears down and with all her might, she drags her nails down his cheek.

It feels like he's being mauled by a fucking Sabertooth and despite his usual numbness, he growls, gritting his teeth, "You  _fucking_  bitch."

Sakura starts shrieking and kicking. He kicks the door shut and rushes her further into the room. A shelf littered with stuffed animals is jutting out. He hurls Sakura at it, with enough force to paralyze a young child. The moment her body connects with the shelf, she collapses to the ground like a tonne of bricks. Soon after she catches her breath she starts screaming at the top of her lungs like a fucking siren.

"HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE, HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!" It's a desperate plea, so desperate even he sort of felt sorry for her. "SOMEONE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HE'S GOING TO FUCKING KILL ME!"

She's on her hands and knees, trying to retreat, crying up a storm like she's just seen the devil. Naruto prods the fresh bruises on his face, the pain is searing and he seethes through his teeth, barely grazing the thin gashes with his fingertips. He can feel rivulets of blood trekking down his face but he isn't allowed to give her the satisfaction of knowing that it hurt.

"Who are you calling for help?!" he screamed behind her, with his hands cupped over his mouth. "Do you really think, that tactic is going to intimidate me?"

Sakura sniveled. She looks absolutely mortified, that he's mocking her. Those emerald eyes start to bulge with disbelief, her bony body starts to spasm uncontrollably. Her throat bobbles and she winces, staring at the door like a forlorn creature.

The whore rose her chin valiantly, eyes locked on him in a silent plea, "PLEASE NARU-NARUTO DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I'M SO S-S-S-ORRY, I'M SORRY! WHATEVER YOU'RE THINKING, WHATEVER YOU'RE PLANNING PLEASE D-D-DON'T! I-I WON'T TELL A SOUL ABOUT YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD, I SWEARTOGOD!"

Sure, it might've seemed useless to try and appeal to him but the instinct to survive seemed stronger. He had seen many become a mouth piece of deranged desperation. Believe that if they asked loud enough, someone would stumble to their rescue. The dorm rooms were in close quarters, so it's a risk to play this game but he oh so enjoyed making her squirm like a worm with a hook through its intestines.

He can't believe how pitiful this bitch looks. Her throat is already bruising beautifully, turning into a wonderful pallet of dull purples and vibrant reds. Her hair is a mess of pink frizz and she already looks like a dead bitch. Spit bubbles accumulate through the spaces between her teeth and she crawls backwards, her voice ragged with despair as she croaked up a cry. She dragged herself to the edge of the room gasping and choking.

She was still clothed in the black dress she had worn earlier. It rides up her thighs, as she claws at the ground, convulsing with grief.

"You stupid  _bitch_ ," he says, the corner of lip his quirked. "You're not going anywhere."

His body feels like ice—liquid metal. Something dark mounted his shoulders, forcing him to walk very predatory-like towards his victim. Once he's close enough he squats down beside her and she flinches, scrambling away and shielding her face.

Naruto's mouth parts in pure enjoyment and he scoffs.

"Have you ever been fucked up the ass, raw? I mean, no preparation—no lube to ease the burn of a  _first time. J_ ust brutally being ripped open repeatedly?" He asks Sakura cryptically, twisting a tendril of her hair around his finger. "The thing is, I thought about killing you, for weeks and weeks and  _weeks. E_ ven on my way here, I relished the idea, practically beat my fucking dick off to the thought of suffocating you to death with my bare hands." He droned, sighing dreamily. "And then, something occurred to me. Killing you, that'd be way too easy—like letting you off the hook in a way. Death seems way too lenient for a treacherous bitch like you."

Sakura is shivering, and cowering like a frail kitten hiding in the shadows. It's the quietest she's ever been.

"Please d-don't kill me." Sakura whimpered.

Naruto stroked her hair.

"You're going to be wishing I did, after I'm done with you." He promises, pulling his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans, and he video calls Sasuke.

Sasuke answers on the fouth ring and Naruto aims the phone at Sakura.

"What—what the hell is this, what's going on?"

Sasuke demands to know after analyzing the scene, bewildered. Upon seeing his face Sakura bursts into tears, the mascara bleeding from her eyes makes the situation look a whole lot worse.

"SASUKE! SASUKE, call daddy, this sick son of a bitc-ow! ow!" Sakura yelps the moment Naruto tugs the roots of her hair from her scalp. She smells like Hinata, and the saccharine fragrance of her own perfume nauseates him.

"Sakura, I once told you I don't hit women," he says, yanking her upright. "Don't make me a liar."

"Is this a god damn joke?!" Sasuke roars. "Have you lost your fucking mind dobe."

Naruto angles the phone above them, letting the dim light catch their features. He mashes his bloodied and gashed up cheek against Sakura's, smearing his blood on her cheek. He grins wryly at Sasuke.

The expression on Sasuke's face is set in stone. His onyx eyes glimmer with a spark of fury. The whites of his eyes are laced with red veins and his jaw is bulging.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Sasuke has the nerve to sound judgmental, like he's done the most godawful thing in the world. "S-she's off limits! What the hell is this?!"

_Fucking hypocrite._

_"Retribution."_

"Naruto, I swear to fucking god if you touch her..."

Naruto nods, like he's considering the pro's and con's of the silent threat. 

The two men stare each other down and then Naruto shrugs. 

"Tell you what, I'm going to give the backdoor a try, you've convinced me that it's better than pussy. Well, I guess I'll get to try it for myself. Don't hang up, Sasuke, I know that you like to watch."


	23. Lost boys

**A/N- Added to the main story from the outtakes.**

* * *

"Naruto. Can I ask you something?"

"Fucking…what?" the blonde asks sourly, eyes slipping open slowly.

He wasn't asleep, he never sleeps.

Sasuke shifted in bed, though he kept his distance from Naruto and the woman nestled against him, "Why the  _fuck_  are you here?"

He asks him one night, after the conclusion of one of their infamous sexcapades. Naruto remembers laying under velvet dark blue sheets, stark naked, with a brunette strapped partially over his sweaty chest, snoring peacefully.

He couldn't see her face from the angle in which he was laying and absentmindedly his fingertips were stroking at her damp dark hair.

"You're the one who wanted me to come down here, asshole. Did you get brain damage from all of that dope?"

"Tch, not high enough. You're missing the fucking point. Not being here, dib shit. Why are you here,  _here_? Konoha? This town is a prosaic little place, nothing exciting ever goes down. No one willingly banishes themselves out here so, what's your excuse?"

It's a weird question. No one has ever asked him a more loaded question. He could lie, so far that's all he's been doing and the technique has been working out just fine.

_If it ain't broke, don't fix it._

"Not that it's any of your fuckin' business but, this is my old man's hometown. Just thought I'd check it out."

_That's sort of true._

"Aw, daddy's little boy." Sasuke teases silkily, staring up at the ceiling with a lopsided and mischievous grin, 'Were you close…with your dad?'

Naruto closed his eyes, "Ya fuckin' right. He was a fucking _prick_ -in the worse way. If this place is so shitty to you, why the heck are you still here?"

Sasuke makes a thoughtful grunting noise and then goes quiet for several beats, like the question was puzzling.

"Chasing a ghost."

Even after he's said it, it reverberates through Naruto's skull with a lingering pinch of familiarity.

"Guess we both are." Naruto replies, hoping that would end the subject.

"Your dad, is he in the ground?"

"Yeah. Why?"

The silence intensifies, until it's louder than the snoring girl beside him.

"Mine too. Both my parents, murdered."

Naruto blinks up at the ceiling. It's evident that Sasuke wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon, he seemed to be in a social mood. Which is rare. Neither of them ever said more than they had to. Every time he's around Sasuke it feels like they were both trying to get their point across in two sentences or less. It's become one of the only redeeming qualities he's seen in Sasuke, aside from the free zip-locked treats.

"It happened here?"

"Mhm. I became an orphan at eight." Sasuke chuckles bitterly. "I felt like my life was over from that point."

He shouldn't have been surprised by the reveal. It's common knowledge that most orphans were up to no good. He isn't and neither is Sasuke. They're in a cult of the unloved, thrown to the wayside and forced to keep themselves afloat in the sea of life.

"Damn. Did they at least catch the fucker?"

Sasuke went silent, this time the silence felt perpetual. The girl beside him murmured something, her voice was husk and that agitated him but when he narrowed his eyes at her dormant form, he was thankful that all of her features were obscured and he could continue on visually pretending she was someone else.

"No but he's still around here somewhere, in the shadows, we have the same hustle. Selling, it's somewhat of a family business." Sasuke replies without a shred of doubt."I've been crawling up the hierarchy of dealers and my name has gotten around. I'll smoke him out eventually."

"So what? You know him personally?"

"My brother."


	24. End

A/N- Hello everyone, I am so sorry for the chapter mix-up. While I was away dealing with the loss of my aunt, my partner (Nixx)accidentally posted a chapter from the first draft of the story and then she deleted it. It's absolutely my fault because I number the updates and she was only posting the mistake that I numbered. I'm glad that she deleted the chapter, it in no way happens but it did in our first draft.

Anyway before we get back into our main story line, I'd like to touch base on what's happening with Kakashi. I know the story appears to be dragging on but all parts of the story are necessary. We're going to have plenty NaruHina moments and it's coming. This is the 'end' to this part of the story and the next will be very pleasing I'm certain. I'll update as soon as I can and thank you if you're still sticking around for the story. I appreciate it and I take none of the love for granted.

Kakashi hadn't slept during the train ride into Konohagakure, and it wasn't for lack of trying. The train was packed to capacity, leaving very little elbow space. He was seated next to a woman whom snored like an electric appliance and murmured in her sleep every so often. Sometimes her head would teeter around on her tiny shoulders and suddenly, plop onto his. She smelled like booze and cigarette smoke and her wiry purple hair made his cheeks tingle.

Her face was hot, scarlet and heavy but it didn't bother him too much. At least someone could get some sleep.

With a sigh he snaps the newspaper open, he acquired it on a rack during a route exchange. Kakashi would never openly admit it but he enjoyed reading the horoscope and perusing the relationship advice columns. If nothing else, the anonymous scandals and gratuitous sex talk often made him feel like he was in the know, although he personally knew none of the people submitting their issues. None of it was ever relatable, since he's unintentionally seeped into a life bereft of such sexual conquests and monogamous endeavors.

But still, it's good to know the world doesn't stop twirling, even in the amidst of all the chaos he investigates.

Life still thrives amongst death.

"Attention passengers this is your conductor speaking, ladies and gentlemen," a monotonous voice announces from the staticky speakers, "we've reached our destination, Konohagakure. It's five pm local time, today's forecast is partly cloudy. For safety purposes we ask that you do not exit the locomotive until directed by an attendant. When you are signaled to leave, please check your seats for any personal belongings that you or the individual beside you may have misplaced during the trip and file out into the aisle in an orderly manner. Ahem," The conductor gulps audibly, "excuse me," he apologizes in a murmur, "at this time, you may recover your carry-on luggage from the overhead compartments. We hope we've accommodated your needs and given you a satisfactory experience by boarding with us. Once more, welcome to Konohagakure, enjoy your stay."

The moment Kakashi steps off the platform, he's met by an officer arrayed in navy blue. The stout young man eyes him curiously, with a quirked brow as he continues to close the distance between them.

"You must be Lieutenant Hatake, Kakshi?" the officer babbles, "A-are you, Ha—hatake…"

"One in the same." Kakashi breaths out sardonically, wheeling a singular suitcase behind him, the newspaper folded and tucked under his arm. The officer's uniform is complete disarray, wrinkled and speckled with lint. Absolutely fucking atrocious. He supposes it can't be help, the former Lieutenant must've been a real slacker to allow his subordinates to waltz into the precinct unkempt and chewed up. The representation already seemed unappealing. How the hell would anyone take this precinct serious if the officers appeared this sloppy and overweight. A certain standard should always be upheld, the dress code up to par. He's certainly going to have his work cut out for him by the looks of things.

Kakashi cleared his throat. He supposes he'd be the wakeup call Konoha needs.

"Sir, my name i—is, officer Choy. I—uh, I've been tasked to take you to the townhouse and then to the station." The short, fat officer made gestures with his hands—pointing to himself during the introduction and elsewhere when he spoke of the places.

"Pleasure to meet you, Choy? Choy."

"Uh no sir, p-pleasures all mine. I-I've heard so much about you in the news—at the station, it's like a dream come t-ttrue to finally meet you. Never in my wildest dreams did I-I imagine I'd meet Hatake, Kakashi. It's insane."

Officer Choy expresses, his voice coated in deep admiration as he extends a soggy sweaty palm to Kakashi. It's too early for this shit. The silver haired man examines the chunky man's hands with mild disgust—though he preserves most of his bluntness behind a thinning smile.

Kakashi reaches into his pocket and procures a handkerchief. He dresses his hand with the cloth and shakes the proffered hand.

"Hands have a nasty habit of leaving traces, don't be offended. Also—officer Choy, I only hope that I can live up to your wildest expectations but in the event that I turn out to be a sham, you have only yourself to blame." Kakashi jokes smoothly, firmly shaking the officers hand. Choy shows no signs of being affronted by the blunt gesture, much to Kakashi's bewilderment.

People shuffle past them with luggage and indistinct chatter fills the air.

"Are you kidding me?" Choy asks rhetorically. "You're a god among us, I've looked up to you for as long as I can remember. The boys at the station are all trying to come to work today just to meet ya and take pictures."

Shit, I hope not.

It's still amusing and a little unsettling that people still put him on a pedestal. He didn't deserve it, he's only ever done what the taxpayers pay him to do, protect and serve civilians. The praise is unnecessary, especially since all officers of the law were putting their lives on the line. His life would never be put above any vagrant or even a criminal.

"God, shoes way too big to fill I'm afraid." He scoffed, shaking his head with lazy modesty. "Officer Choy, one should never judge a man's worth through hearsay, although my feats seem extraordinary it is all selfless and necessary. I've done nothing to deserve your praise, nothing that you yourself (or your bothers in arms) wouldn't do in our line of work."

Kakashi lets Choy's hand drop to his side, he rolls up the off-white handkerchief and stuffs it into the back pocket of his grey slacks.

The station is quite small, and people have already dispersed to the parking lot. Kakashi looks over Choy's head. The sky was awash with various shades of grey, pale sunlight speared weakly through a few spaces between the clouds and the smell of rain was pungent. Either it had rained already, or the rain was coming. Either way, he isn't particularly fond of it and he's pretty much functioning on an empty tank.

"The modest hero," Choy has gone on to say with a glimmer of glee in his beady eyes, "you're even humble like a superhero!"

Kakashi only chuckled, patting the young officer on the back. "How's about a pitstop before we get down to business, maybe a nice waffle house I could get some grub in?"

Choy snaps his fat fingers, "Oh—uh—ok well duh Choy, of course you're hungry. I know a good place!"

"Great, good."

They're in a tiny diner nestled between a gas station and a boutique. The diner has a checkered linoleum floor and a neon sign that read; Chiyo's Diner. An instrumental is playing over their heads, waitresses are shouting orders to cooks stationed on a steel grill and bust boys hastily pluck up dishes.

Kakashi slouches slightly in the booth, fingering through the menu calculatedly.

"What do you recommend officer Choy?"

The man hums for a moment and then clucks his tongue.

"I'm not much of a waffle lover but even I have to admit that the Belgian Puppet, the waffle is topped with maple syrup and strawberry filling. Those waffles are what gives this place it's good rep."

"Oh ya?" Kakashi asks incredulously, never taking his eyes off the menu. "Why's that?"

Choy shrugs, "It's the house special and a lot of tourist tend to gravitate here since, yanno, it's downtown. This place just has a type of je ne sais quoi. I'm not even kidding, people travel here just to eat at this place, just for the Belgian Puppet. The food here is pleasingly aesthetic."

Kakashi's brows raised on his forehead as he continued to grimace at the menu, hunching over to flip through with a digit.

"Well I'd be a fool not to see what all the fuss is about."

"I don't think the words you and fool are compatible in any sentence lieutenant." Choy says, fiercely earnest. "Even though I just used them in a sentence, it was just to make a point."

Kakashi is just about to tell him to simmer down with the kiss-ass routine when the waitress appears. She asks them what they'd like to drink and Kakashi orders seven cappuccino's which warrants the stares of disbelief from both the waitress and Choy. Choy simply orders a water and Kakashi assumes he's pretending to care about his figure or his hygiene, either way it isn't convincing.

The waitress, who's mustered up enough perkiness to come off as somewhat charming, assures them that she'd be back with their drinks. Kakashi sinks back into his seat and pulls out his cell.

He sends off a quick text to Rin.

K- Made it, getting chow. Not a fan, they sent a rookie escort.

R- Lol. Is she cute?

K- As cute as a button and he's as round as one too.

R- Yikes haha. I bet you haven't even taken 20 steps and you've already made up your mind about the place.

K- What can I say, city life has grown on me. Hey, I'll give you a call when I'm finish with the shitstorm of in-processing.

R- ugh yeah, good luck with that.

"So, officer Choy, how long have you resided here?"

Choy crosses his portly arms over his chest and shrugs nonchalantly.

"Most my life. Parents wanted to go somewhere quiet, of course I've always thought this town was a little lackluster. Still do, though lately—things have been heating up."

"Heating up?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to discuss it," Choy starts, his voice lowering to an almost whisper. "but what the hell, they're going to brief you on it anyway. Things are usually sort of dead around here, crime rates at an all-time low really but last night we got a code 187 and a possible 207." Choy leans into the table, with cursory glances around the lobby before sighing like he could hardly bring himself to continue—though it's evident that he couldn't wait to fill Kakashi in. "Male victim, decapitated and stuffed into a kitchen cupboard. And get this, he was full on nude," Choy's eyes flit around the diner, a trickle of sweat glinting over his brow. "traces of his coagulated body fluid all over the kitchen floor."

Decapitation?

"Really?" Kakashi asks, though his brain had already drawn a connection—a face. "Do they have any leads—suspects?"

"One, but it's highly unlikely—still, they're looking into it." Choy nods. "The guy has a niece, witnesses place her at the scene that night. They also say she left early that morning in a hurry and hasn't returned. Since then, her name has been plastered on the news so—you know, she couldn't have gotten far."

"Odd." Kakashi declares, collecting a few Splenda packets from a sweetener dispenser.

So a girl is involved.

"I'll say." Choy agrees apprehensively, shaking his head sorrowfully.

"The decapitation," Kakashi starts, narrowing his eyes at the officer across from him, "How was this done, at the ankles? Wrist? Is there a murder weapon? If you don't mind divulging that information to me. Just so I wouldn't be too behind the times."

Choy seemed both dubious but all too elated to cue Kakashi in. It's true that Kakashi might've been relying on both his rank and reputation. He could've very well not indulge in work before coffee, but this subject had piqued some of his key suspicions. The clues that led him to transfer to this precinct.

Choy licks his lips and for some inane reason looks over his shoulder before speaking once more in a hushed tone, "wrists, ankles and the kicker, his genitalia. You know, everyone has been spooked since the news broke. Nothing like that has ever happened here. Everyone knows everyone, so this is a bit too close to home. Do you know what I mean?"

Kakashi nods, though his thoughts grow more and more distant. Choy's voice becomes an echo, as his thoughts come stampeding to the forefront of his skull. He combined details he knew with the erratic case that Choy had just unveiled.

Could I have stumbled across him this soon?

This is the birthplace of his father. Coming here—like this, seems rather reckless but he's cocky enough to take these risks. He'd think this place would be ruled out as the obvious choice, that no one would assume he migrated here. This is the last place that anyone would suspect him of being.

It's quaint, small and secluded. The population is nearly in the hundreds. This isn't a place where he could get away with multiple murders and yet, it's the perfect smoke screen.

This can all check out and not because I'm trying to piece the narrative together based solely on a trail of victims. If you really look at their backgrounds they're nothing to go by, they're baseless plot (as far as he knows, none of them seem connected to the suspect).

The facts are, Minato Namikaze was born here. Maybe that son of a bitch Menma was at his ropes end, or maybe at his deadliest.

But to kill a male? Doesn't seem like his style or maybe I've been giving that sick bastard too much credit. Even so, he's been consistent across the board. Always female, always the ankles and wrist.

What's the hell could've changed? Maybe the uncle is collateral.

Kakashi stared out the dirt-stained window of the diner, the greenery across the street was lush and wild.

You're close...I can feel it.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos greatly appreciated, feedback is nice as well. Thanks for stopping by lovelies.


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